#I’ll get there eventually if I try again

[lynnieverse]

Hey GORGG

I was wondering could we get a fic where bsf!rafe is an ass to his baf bc he’s going through shit and he’s just ghosting her and is mean and when she does the same he realizes he fucked up? Angst ans fluff?

tysm luv!

ooo I got you! thank you for this rec!! :)

ghostin' // rafe cameron

oneshot

asshole!bsf!rafe cameron x reader

You knock loudly on the large wooden door of your best friend’s house before stepping back, arms crossed tightly over your chest. Rafe had been going ghost for days––ignoring text messages, skipping out on plans––and while it had concerned you in the beginning, now you’re just pissed. You tap your foot impatiently as the minutes pass, and eventually you pull out your phone. You call him five times. Five times before he answers. 

“Yes?” his tone was sharp, clearly annoyed. 

“Open the fucking door, Rafe Cameron.” 

“Why are you here, Y/N?” 

“Why do you think I’m here?! You’ve been ignoring me for days, dude. What the fuck is your problem?” You start pacing around his porch, looking in windows trying to catch a glimpse of his stupid ass. 

“Maybe take a hint then.” The words are like a slap to the face, lips parting slightly. What the fuck? After a beat, you go cold. He’s messing with the wrong bitch. 

“Alright, sure. You go off and do your little broody, pouty, ‘woe is me’ routine because daddy doesn’t love you, and see where that gets you. Meanwhile, the people who do love you, that you couldn’t give a shit about, are worried and just want to talk. Not me. You’re not going to treat me like the dirt on the bottom of your shoe and think I’ll stick around. Have a nice life.” You end your rant with a satisfying jab and end the call. You shove your phone in your pocket and storm to your car, immediately driving away without a second glance. 

Within five minutes you hear a familiar ringtone and roll your eyes. This is what he always does. He pushes and pushes until people break, and then tries to make up for it with pretty words. Not today, not ever again. 

You send him to voicemail, immediately getting a second call. Then another, then another. Eventually you resolve to turn your phone off, cutting all contact at the source. Sighing, you pull into your driveway and rest your head on the steering wheel. You could do this. 

It was his turn to be ignored. 

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Rafe expects you to call back. You always do. 

But you don’t. 

He wakes up to silence. No missed calls, no texts…nothing. He can’t help but sigh at his own stubbornness. 

At first he tells himself it’s fine, that you’re just giving him space and you’ll come around. 

Then he sees you out with your friends. 

You’re laughing, head tipped back, smile wide. Instinctively he wants to approach, but knows he shouldn’t. Not after what he did. 

He really fucked up this time. 

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Three Days Later

Rafe shows up to your house shortly after the sun dipped below the horizon, draining all the light from your street. His hands are shoved deep inside his pocket, head hung low. 

He knocks. 

No answer. 

He knocks again.

Silence.

This continued for a few more minutes before your muffled voice could be heard through the door. 

“Go home, Rafe.” 

His stomach twists painfully. He doesn’t know how to deal with you shutting him out. It was always the other way around. 

“I was an asshole. Please, Y/N, just talk to me.” The words felt like ash on his tongue. He never apologized, not to anyone. “I took my bullshit out on you and I shouldn’t have. I messed up, but this can’t be how it ends with us.”

Silence surrounds him once more. He sighs in defeat before turning around, ready to lick his wounds back to his house. As he stepped off your porch, the lock clicked.

You open the door just enough to fit your frame, arms crossed over your chest. “Do you even know what you did?” 

Rafe swallows hard. He looks at you, really looks at you—the tired set of your shoulders, the frustration flickering behind your eyes.

“I pushed you away,” he says finally. “And then when you tried to pull me back, I hurt you.”

You hold his gaze for a long moment, searching for something. He looked sincere, shoulders sagging and eyebrows scrunched. 

“Yeah,” you say, voice quiet. “You did.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“Okay.” 

It’s not forgiveness, not yet, but it’s enough for now. Enough to know you weren’t completely done with him yet. And Rafe will take whatever he can get. 

[goldfades]

hiiii idea popped in my head seeing joey on the phone but like imagine he’s away and trying to help y/n get kids to bed but it’s hard since he’s away 🥰😭 sorry i have to share the imaginings happening :-))))

no, baby i love when people share their cute little ideas!!! i hope you enjoy this one<3

The second Joe’s face popped up on FaceTime, Hayes let out a dramatic gasp—like he had just seen a celebrity in the wild.

"Dada!"

You winced as his little voice echoed through the house, far louder than necessary. "Hayes, baby, inside voice," you reminded him, but it didn’t matter. The damage was already done.

From down the hall, you heard the unmistakable wail of your youngest, jolted awake by his big brother’s sudden outburst. You closed your eyes for a brief second, sighing, already bracing for the next half hour of chaos.

Joe must have heard it, too, because his face twisted in sympathy. "That bad, huh?"

You turned your attention back to the phone, where Joe was sitting in his hotel room, half-smiling, half-wincing, freshly showered with wet curls sticking to his forehead.

"That bad," you confirmed, shifting Hayes further onto your hip. He had his tiny fingers fisted in your shirt, but his eyes were locked on the screen, grinning so big it made his dimples pop.

"Hi, buddy," Joe said, his voice warm and fond.

"Dada, when you coming home?" Hayes asked, tilting his head.

Joe’s face softened. "Couple more days, bud. But guess what? We have a game tomorrow. Are you gonna watch?"

Hayes nodded enthusiastically, kicking his legs in excitement. "I wear my jersey!"

"You better. Gotta match me, right?"

Hayes nodded again, his little hands now gripping the phone like he could somehow pull Joe through the screen.

It wasn’t the first time he had gone through this phase. As you liked to say, Hayes had his "favorites"—rotating obsessions that switched every few months. Sometimes it was dinosaurs, sometimes it was a specific pair of socks he refused to take off for days at a time, and sometimes, it was Joe.

This was one of those times.

For the past couple of weeks, everything had been about Joe. Hayes only wanted to watch football, only wanted to play "catch" in the backyard, only wanted to FaceTime his dad 24/7. If Joe was around, you were nothing—completely cast aside.

Which, really, you didn’t mind. Because the way Joe lit up every time Hayes showed even an ounce of excitement over football or his job in general—it was worth every second of being ignored.

What you did mind, however, was getting him to sleep without Joe here.

"Okay, buddy, we gotta say goodnight to Dada," you said, shifting Hayes in your arms.

"No!" Hayes protested immediately, curling his little fingers into fists. "Not yet!"

Joe chuckled. "C’mon, H, listen to Mama. You gotta go to bed."

Hayes pouted. "Don’t wanna."

"Yeah, well, I don’t wanna deal with a grumpy toddler tomorrow, so you kinda have to," you muttered under your breath, earning a soft laugh from Joe.

"How about this?" Joe offered. "I’ll stay on FaceTime while you get in bed, and I’ll tell you a story, okay?"

Hayes perked up immediately. "A story?"

"Yeah," Joe grinned. "But only if you’re in bed."

Hayes was already wiggling out of your grasp before Joe had even finished his sentence, making a beeline for his room. You sighed in relief, grabbing the monitor from the counter before following behind.

By the time you got to his room, he was already under the covers, clutching his stuffed tiger, eyes bright with anticipation.

"Alright, let’s hear it, Burrow," you said, settling into the rocking chair, phone still in hand.

Joe laughed, then launched into one of Hayes’ favorites—something about a football-playing dinosaur that you were pretty sure Joe had made up on the fly one night, but Hayes had loved it ever since.

It took a few minutes, but eventually, Hayes’ blinks got heavier, and his tiny body started relaxing into the mattress.

By the time Joe reached the end of the story, his voice had dropped to barely above a whisper, and Hayes was out.

"Thank God," you sighed, carefully tucking the blanket around your son before stepping out into the hallway.

Joe was smirking when you looked back at the screen. "See? Easy."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, ‘easy’ because you get to do the fun part. Try dealing with the bath time tantrums before you get cocky."

Joe laughed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I miss you, though. And I miss Hayes."

Your heart clenched. "He misses you, too."

"I’ll be home soon, I promise."

"I know."

There was a beat of silence before he spoke again, voice softer now.

"You’re doing such a good job, you know that?"

You felt it—the warmth spreading through your chest, the way your shoulders relaxed at his words.

"Thank you," you murmured. "Now hurry up and win so you can get back home to your biggest fan."

Joe grinned. "I think that’s you."

You huffed out a laugh. "Not even close. That title officially belongs to your tiny clone."

Joe laughed, shaking his head. "Fine. But you’re a close second."

And somehow, that was enough.

--

Joe had barely stepped foot through the door before Hayes came barreling toward him, arms wide, cheeks flushed with excitement.

Joe barely had time to drop his bag before scooping him up. "There’s my boy!" he grinned, pressing a kiss to Hayes’ chubby cheek. "Missed you, bud."

"Missed you too," Hayes said, but before Joe could even savor the moment, Hayes was already wiggling out of his grasp.

Joe blinked in confusion as his son ran right past him and straight to Maisie, who was lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone.

"AUNT MAISIE!" Hayes shouted, climbing into her lap like she was his long-lost hero.

Maisie barely looked up, smirking. "What’s up, little dude?"

Joe stood there, stunned. Mouth slightly open, arms still mid-air from where he had just been cast aside like a used toy.

You were trying so hard not to laugh.

Maisie shot Joe a cocky look, ruffling Hayes’ curls. "Told you. I’m officially the favorite now."

Joe scoffed. "That’s not possible."

You snorted. "Oh, it’s possible. It happened while you were gone. Apparently, Maisie’s the ‘cool’ one now."

Joe crossed his arms. "I thought I was the cool one."

Maisie let out a dramatic sigh, adjusting her sunglasses (which she was still wearing inside, for some reason). "You had a good run, but the people have spoken."

Joe turned to Hayes, genuinely confused. "Buddy, what about football? What about watching game film with me? What about—?"

"I like Aunt Maisie’s music better," Hayes cut in, matter-of-factly.

Joe looked genuinely offended. "What’s wrong with my music?"

Maisie let out a loud laugh. "Oh my God. You’ve been replaced by Taylor Swift and the Encanto soundtrack."

Joe’s face dropped. "That’s not fair. Encanto has bangers."

"You don’t even know the words to ‘We Don’t Talk About Bruno,’" you pointed out.

Joe gasped, pointing at you accusingly. "You’re enjoying this too much."

"Oh, absolutely," you grinned.

Joe groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. "Unbelievable. Gone for one week and I’m completely irrelevant."

Maisie patted his shoulder. "It happens to the best of us, man."

Joe sighed, finally giving in. "Fine. But just so you know, he’s gonna want to play football with me again in, like, two weeks."

Maisie smirked. "We’ll see."

And honestly? You weren’t so sure. Because the way Hayes was currently clinging to Maisie’s side, giggling at whatever TikTok she had just shown him?

Yeah. Joe was gonna have to work really hard to win back his title.

[wonderjanga]

idea: billy keeping Important League Stuff in miss bambis apartment for safekeeping cuz the rock of eternity has WAY too much evil stuff, and now all the magic users think that miss bambis magic-catwoman

Miss Bambi: “Billy, whats that?”

Billy: “Space cancer in a bottle!”

Miss Bambi: “Oh… I see.” *takes a drag of her cigarette* “Well, put it with the others.”

Billy: “Thanks, Miss Bambi!” *runs in and puts it with the other bottles full of space cancer*

William Joseph Batson is the World’s Mightiest Mortal. He’s also a 12-year-old boy who doesn’t have many adults in his life that he trusts. That’s why he leaves highly dangerous mission stuff with Miss Bambi. Because he trusts her. Also because he doesn’t think he should have a bunch of dangerous stuff in the Rock. Some of it should be in other places.

Anyways, other magicians who visit Fawcett all get concerned whenever they pass by a shitty apartment complex that has a bunch of evil and negative magic radiating from it. Specifically a single apartment.

This is the apartment complex I told you about.

Marvel: *staring at the building, thinking they know* “I see… and why are we here?”

Random Magician: “Wha- because there’s a bunch of evil magic practically oozing from it!”

Marvel: “And?”

Random Magician: “And what! That person could be extremely dangerous!”

Marvel: “I assure you, they’re not.”

Random Magician: “Yes they are! Magic can only become this bad through numerous evil rituals and sacrifices and spells!”

Marvel: “Look, just trust me, okay? It’s nothing.”

That magician did in fact, not trust him, and instead went to go check out the location of the source of the evil magic.

Random Magician: “Who’re you??”

Miss Bambi: “You can call me Bambi.” *looks them up and down judgmentally* “Are you one of Billy’s friends?”

Random Magician: *doesn’t know Billy is Cap* “No?”

Miss Bambi: “Oh.” *slams the door in their face*

The magic user eventually tried to suddenly ask about her and this Billy character.

Marvel: “That’s uh… My name?”

The magic user proceeded to go and tell everyone they knew because what the heck? This random, potentially very evil lady knows the champions real name? Also, the Champion’s name is Billy??

That’s how the “Oh, she must be magical Catwoman” thing cropped up.

From then on, they all had utmost respect for her cause the Champion is insanely powerful, so by stealing from the Rock of Eternity of all places that means she has to be pretty powerful herself. There’s also the fact that they can sense almost no magic from her so clearly she must be at least skilled to hide it that well.

Every single wizard that is evil is trying to curry to her favor.

Evil Magician: *looking extremely suspicious* “Mistress Bambi-”

Miss Bambi: “I told you weirdos not to call me that.”

Evil Magician: “-I have come to tell you about a special artifact that I think will interest you. It’s the eye of the Bermuda Triangle.”

Miss Bambi: *smoking, looking at them like they’re an idiot* “Yeah… Thanks…”

Evil Magician: “Your welcome, mistress-”

Miss Bambi: “Again, told you not to call me that.”

Later…

Miss Bambi: *chilling outside the apartment complex*

Billy: *jogging over so he can go inside

Miss Bambi: “Hey, Billy!”

Billy: “Yes, Miss Bambi?”

Miss Bambi: “Another one of those creeps came around and told me about some Eye of the Bermuda Triangle?”

“Another evil artifact? Dang. Well, I’ll hop to it! Thanks, Miss Bambi!”

See, the unfortunate thing is that an evil magician would tell Bambi about an evil artifact, and then Billy would go search for it and then give it to her for safekeeping. So they’d think she stole it, which would continue to feed the magical Catwoman rumors.

By the way, all the artifacts besides the ones that sound explicitly dangerous like the space cancer and a bottle, or just scattered about her apartment. Like, she has multiple evil pendants hanging from her ceiling fan because they look pretty and add to the ambience. She has an evil magic tome under one of the legs of her coffee table, so it keeps balance. She does not care.

Also, John Constantine eventually met her, and they vibe.

[bettystonewell]

Yay - I knew this would be amazing! I’m so happy you ended up doing this ❤️

I’m still yet to watch much of The Boys and Big Sky - though I tried, and then realised I’m going to need to watch the whole of both and not just the seasons that feature Jensen 🙊 but I was still able to enjoy this and see each individual character❤️

I also haven’t seen Ten Inch Hero - what kind of person am I? I’m going to blame the fact that we always seem to get stuff here last in Australia, even though it’s close to 20 years old?…

Anywho - this is my favourite line from the whole thing (and not just because it’s Dean):

Right now he's Monica, trying to convince you he's in tip-top shape, while you're Chandler

I was imagining MEV reader again, and as I was writing this I kept getting myself confused because I’m relating her to Monica’s love of cooking. But Dean is a bit of a mother hen and fussy with the cleanliness of his room, so he’s definitely got some similarities with Monica there haha - role reversal when the ‘bossy’ one gets bossed - just go to bed Dean!

And unlike Dean, Chandler can admit he needs someone occasionally 🤣

I’m really surprised by Beau’s character. I’ve read a couple of fics where the big 3 were all present, granted they were crackish, but I was under the impression he was a little more grounded and sweeter? And I guess he probably is, I’ll give him a pass because he has the man flu, but I didn’t realise he was such a work-a-holic. Then again, he’s a sheriff, makes sense. And at least he listens eventually, even if there were a few, I’ll say instructions. Man runs a right ship. “And can you get me…”

I liked the below line from Ben, but I’m not going to lie, just dropping the f-bomb is what grabbed my attention (and again, there’s something wrong with me lol)

“Why can't you put some fucking steak in it or something?"

He’s just a dick, a grumbly one, but also a softie and wants some love deep down right? You won’t win it with yachts, mate, although I guess it’s worked for him before?

I’m going to see if I can watch Ten Inch Hero 🤞 - but now I really want to know if I was to read one of your Ben fics (being a super hero interests me the most), is there one I could read where I wouldn’t have to watch the show first? 👉👈 spoilers don’t bother me, I read supernatural fics set in the bunker before I’d even gotten there 😅 but I want to check one out and Break Me Down is looking very appealing ❤️

HEADCANON: Man Flu

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader || Beau Arlen x Reader || Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader || Boaz Priestly x Reader

HC: When Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Boaz Priestly get sick, how would they act when you (try to) take care of them?

AN: After reading I Got You by @bettystonewell (Dean x Reader) and The Best Kind of Medicine by @lamentationsofalonelypotato (Soldier Boy x Reader), I realized that I've never actually written a sick-fic before. Here it is in headcanon form, since you guys seem to like these! lol 💜

Also adding Priestly to this lineup for the first time because some of you have been requesting more of him recently. 😉

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, hurt/comfort, sick-fic, some needy affection-starved men who don't want to admit they're needy, lots of fluff.~

Dean Winchester

He's not sick. Because he doesn't get sick.

Dean claims he has the constitution of a horse, but you still take the beer out of his hand before he can take a sip at 10:00 a.m.

He's too busy interrupting himself, namely by coughing half a lung, wheezing, blinking teary eyes -- the whole phlegmy nine yards.

Sam shakes his head, casting you a look that frankly says, Good luck.

He knows his brother is stubborn as hell, and one of the things Dean dislikes most is being fussed over for "no reason." Being seen as weak. Not being able to just shrug his shoulders and shake it off.

To be fair, Dean tries. Except this time it's accompanied by a body shiver and a reluctant sniffle. His pallid face is drawn, and his usually strong and solid frame looks unsteady as he leans a hand on the War Room table.

"Okay, come on, Rambo. Let's get you back into bed," you say, guiding your boyfriend back to the room you share with him.

"I'm find," he insists, even as he begrudgingly accepts the gentle pressure of your hand on his back and shoulder, pushing him down to the bed.

"Sure you are, baby," you say with a smirk. "You're in the primb of libe."

Dean shoots you a narrowed look. Damn you for forcing him to binge-watch all those episodes of Friends late at night when you both can't sleep.

Right now he's Monica, trying to convince you he's in tip-top shape, while you're Chandler, just trying to get him to use tissues instead of his flannel sleeve to wipe his runny nose.

After taking his boots off, you get him to change out of his jeans and back into his sweatpants. Then you manage to get him to lay down under the covers with the promise of coming back with medicine and soup.

"I don't want soup, damn it," he grumbles. You just roll your eyes and rub his arm.

"Just rest. I'll be back with the Vicks."

As you might expect, Dean is not an easy patient.

He refuses to drink tea, but he does down the pills you bring for him, with a measured toss of his head that still makes his head swim. He groans.

He swallows a couple of cautious spoonfuls of the soup, pausing when he realizes that its warmth actually feels good down his sore and scratchy throat. It tastes pretty good too, especially with the warm, buttered slices of bread on the side.

"You made this?" he asks.

"Mhmm," you nod, smiling. If nothing else, good food will pacify this man. "Chicken and wild rice, made especially for you."

"Hmm. S' good," he nods in reply. He manages to finish the bowl.

He has to admit, if just to himself, that he does feel like shit.

He won't admit that the way you're rubbing his back, the gentle pressure of your nails between his shoulders and down his spine relaxes him, makes him feel better.

He knows that you care about him. That you love him. But this is one of those moments where it hits him, just how much.

It's a little overwhelming. A heavy swell of pressure fills his chest, so he tries not to let himself think about it for very long.

(He fails.)

After he's done eating, you take the plates away and help him back into bed. You linger there, slipping your fingers through his soft brown hair and pressing a kiss to his clammy forehead.

"I really need you to rest, okay," you say quietly. "If you need anything, just text me or Sam. Don't get out of bed."

Dean grasps your hand before you can move away from him. Since you're probably going to wash your hands anyway, he lays a kiss on the back of your hand.

"Thanks, sweetheart."

Beau Arlen

Sheriff Beau Arlen is the type to run himself into the ground because he's so damn into his work.

He wants to do well in his station of responsibility, and he feels like he has to make up for his performance during the summer madness of Buck Barnes and Avery...and everything in between.

You just have to make Beau realize that he needs to slow down, before he well and truly burns himself out.

You put your foot down one morning.

He tries to get out of bed but has to pause, his head swimming. He takes a couple of steadying breaths while sitting on the edge of the bed.

You notice with a frown. "Hey, you okay?"

"Fine. Just fine," he answers a little too breathlessly. He raises a hand to his head. His throat is sticky and coarse. He wrinkles his nose when he also feels a sneeze coming on.

"Just need a...a...mugh-ah-ha-hugh."

His coughing sneeze makes you grimace. You didn't even know someone could sneeze and cough at the same time.

"Aw, babe. You're sick," you say as you move over to him, resting a hand on his back. He shakes his head and groans.

"Nah, can't be sick. Gotta lot of work to do today," he says. His voice is like gravel blended with broken glass. It would actually be sexy, if for the distinctly un-sexy way he tries to clear the great wad of phlegm from his throat.

He tries to rock himself onto his feet, but there he sways on the landing. You hurry out of bed to grab his arm and steady him.

"Oh no, you don't. Back into bed," you say.

"Aw, sweetheart. I'll be fine--"

"No. Lay down. You're not going in today," you say more firmly, all while you tuck the man back into bed with the blankets covering him.

"All right, all right. No need to be so pushy," he can't help but tease.

It earns a small smirk on your face. It seems like his man flu hasn't yet deprived him of his sense of humor.

"I thought you liked that though," you reply. You sit on the edge of the bed and rub his chest. He groans in defeat.

"Can't believe this," he grumbles. "Today of all days--"

"There's always going to be another case. This is your body telling you that you need to slow down," you tell him. "So how about this. I'm gonna call in one of my sick days, and we'll bunker in together."

You stroke his bearded cheek. He quirks a smile, grabbing your hand and squeezing warmly.

"How long until I'm allowed out, warden?" he asks.

"Until you can stand without keeling over," you dryly reply. A smile tugs at your lips. "Remind me to stop by CVS to grab you a Life Alert."

"All right, har har haugh--" His sarcasm ends on a very real, wheezing cough. Your amused smile drops. You relent from your teasing and stroke his chest once more.

"Okay, just rest. Let me get you some actual medicine and I'll be right back."

He stops you by grabbing your wrist. "Hey, uh...can I have some chicken noodle soup later?"

"Of course, baby. I'll swing by the store now and get some stuff for you."

"And some saltines?"

"Saltine crackers on the side. Got it."

You're about to head to the bathroom to brush your teeth before you start getting ready to go to the store, but once again, Beau's needy hand stops you.

"Before you go, some tea with honey and lemon would be good. Just something for my throat," he croaks.

You smile and nod. "Yeah, for sure. That'll be better for you than coffee."

"Oh, and can you gimme that quilt over there?" he asks, pointing to your favorite knitted blanket at the edge of the bed. You graciously lay it over his form and drop a kiss onto his forehead.

"And some cough drops. Thank you, darlin'," Beau adds.

Your lips begin to press together, but you nod and continue getting dressed.

You can already tell this man is going to settle into you taking care of him just fine.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Neither of you thought it was possible, considering his super genes that allowed him to eat and booze and drug harder than Andre the Giant and Keith Richards put together.

But one day, your over six-foot super soldier goes down hard. The warning signs came the night before, when you could hardly sleep with the way he was snoring like a grizzly bear.

In the morning, he wakes bleary-eyed with a runny nose and a coughing fit hard enough to shake the bed.

"Fuck," he groans, dragging a hand over his face before he turns onto his back. "This's gotta be some kind of bullshit hangover."

You move over to him in bed and feel the intense warmth of his clammy forehead. Your brows draw together in concern.

"No, I think you're sick."

"Not possible," he grumbles. "I haven't been sick since..."

Well, since he was a kid, probably. He won't admit it, but he's surprised he still has that memory lodged in the back of his mind.

It comes to the forefront now: your hand on his cheek unknowingly mimics his mother's gentle touch, her soft, kind voice.

"Aw, my sweet boy. Let's get you feeling better."

He can almost recall the floral scent of her perfume, echoes of it in the shampoo you use.

Ben claims he's fine, that he doesn't need your help or want the medicine and tea you bring for him. (He tries the tea, grimaces, and spits it out when you're not looking.)

He's a sourpatch grumbly patient who only begrudgingly stays put in bed when you ask him to. He doesn't mind lying around and watching movies all day, not to mention episode after episode of Below Deck. It reminds him that he wants to get back into boating.

"Hey, sweetheart," he calls to you from the bedroom, his voice croaking all the while. "I'm getting you a yacht for Valentine's Day. You want it all white, or throw in a bit of gold? Actually, check out this one with the navy trim."

You roll your eyes to yourself when you step back into the room. You're carrying a tray with a large bowl of soup and a fifth of whiskey. He claims the latter will help soothe his throat, and you don't have the heart to argue with him when he's clearly feeling so shitty.

"You mean you're getting you a yacht," you reply wryly. "We live in the city. Where the hell would we put a boat?"

"In a yacht club, where it belongs," Ben retorts. He hooks an arm around your waist and peruses what you've brought him on the tray. He doesn't look all that interested.

"Look, I know you're not exactly a soupy kinda guy, but this'll make you feel better," you say.

"Why can't you put some fucking steak in it or something?" he grouses. He tries and fails to hide another wet cough.

"Why can't you just eat what I lovingly made, just for you," you snipped back.

He rolls his eyes at your attitude, but he pipes down. In that silence, he's conceding that you have a point. There was a time were all he had to do was glance in someone's direction, and there'd be some fucking moron to fulfill his every whim.

Now, you're probably the only one in the world that would actually do what you're doing...

Cooking for him, putting your heart into it, for the simple reason that you do care.

Ben takes the bowl of soup from your hands. Raising a brow, you offer him the spoon as well.

He eats without further complaint.

You smile and reward him with a sweet kiss on his forehead, brushing his hair back as you do so.

"See? That's not so hard, huh?" you can't help but needle him. "It's okay, baby. I'll take care of you."

He eyes you dryly, but he won't admit that there's a different kind of warmth coiling in his chest.

Boaz Priestly

"Uuuughhh, babe," he groans. "I feel like death on toast."

You're standing beside the bed with a smile playing on your lips. You brush back his for once un-gelled hair back from his face. It's weird to see it all limp and lifeless, slightly damp with sweat.

"Unironically, I should make you some toast," you reply. "What kind of medicine do we have?"

Priestly unearths his head from under his pillow to look up at you with miserable red-rimmed eyes and a sniffling, stuffy nose. "Can we count the tequila in the mini bar?"

"Maybe later," you laugh. "How are we on groceries?"

Priestly struggles to think. He takes your hand and rubs it back and forth across his chest. Maybe your sweet, loving touch has the power to clear away his congestion without him needing Vicks. Too minty.

"We have that pastrami I brought back from the shop," he says.

"That's six days old already," you shake your head.

"Aw, that's still good," he argues. "But uh, other than that, I think I have half a cheeseburger left from last night."

Last night's date at TGI Friday's, he means.

You heave a sigh. "Okay, clearly I'm going to the store. You just stay in bed and rest. Drink your tea."

He grimaces like a child. "I don't like tea."

"I know you don't like tea, but you need to drink it. It's good for your throat and your immune system."

He groans and flops back over onto his stomach. You bite your lip against a smile. He's such a whiny baby when he's sick.

Talk about Man Flu.

"Come on, be a good boy for me," you say, smacking him lightly on the ass. "Soon enough you'll feel better."

A smile creeps across his face where it's pressed against his pillow.

"Know what would really make me feel better?" he hedges. He tries to guide you down to him by tugging on your hand, but you resist him.

"Oh, no. You're not gonna get your germs all over me," you say.

"Hey, what happened to in sickness and in health?" he croaks. Even while under the weather, he's still plenty strong enough to grapple with you. He manages to yank you down. Laughing, you stumble into a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Huh, I don't remember exchanging any vows. You see a ring on this finger?" you tease, flashing your bare hand in his face to try and distract him and weasle out of his grip. "I can jump this ship anytime I want."

Priestly pouts. His arm hooks tighter around your waist. "Huh, guess you got me there..."

He turns his head and coughs roughly into his arm. Your amusement fades into concern and sympathy. You lay a hand over his chest while he struggles.

Once again, he clasps his free hand over yours. He glances up a bit hesitantly into your eyes.

"Well, maybe it's time there should be something on this finger," he murmurs.

You blink your eyes wider. Your head tilts, wondering if you just heard him right. Is this delirium fever talking, or is he serious?

"O-Oh yeah?" you ask.

Priestly tries to gauge your reaction. Seeing your face break out into a cute, shy smile raises the corners of his lips. Hope blooms in his chest, right beneath your hand.

"Yeah," he says, trying to clear his cracking throat. "I mean, if you're okay with that. If it's not too soon--"

You slip your fingers over his plush, chapped lips, and your smile brightens.

"When you're feeling better, you can ask me that question properly."

AN: 😆 I hope you liked the first ever addition of Priestly!! It was so fun to try and write him again (it's been a while lol). Feel free to imagine this vignette in the same storyverse as The Miracle Man and Code Red.

But I also hope you enjoyed the "Big 3," as I call them, even though Russell is starting to give Beau a run for his money on one of those slots. 😂 Let me know which guy you had the most fun reading on this one! 💜

And if you want even more fluff before Valentine's Day, check out my friend @waynes-multiverse who just posted her set of V-Day headcanons with Dean, Soldier Boy, Beau, and Russell: Headcanon: Valentine's Day 💕

Join My Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

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[atleastpleasetelephone]

Elvis caught reading readers smut books and getting all flustered and embarrassed because he likes them

A/N: Okay so this was also really fun, I made it a sequel to talk dirty to me. Everyone loves blushy Elvis, so here he is in all his glory.

This is the story

Pairing: Elvis x reader

Word count: 1.9K

TWs: Dirty talk, panty abuse (lol), smut.

Whenever he wants to get away from his life, Elvis runs away to your apartment. The guys know where he is, sometimes they even drop him off there and pick him up again, but it still seems like an escape. He loves the way you’ve decorated the place - it’s so different from anything he would do but somehow he still feels at home there. It’s cosy and warm and covered in throws and cushions and rugs, and the walls are lined with row upon row of books. More often than not, he arrives at your apartment before you’re home from work and curls up on the sofa with something from one of your shelves. He’s even learned to make his own hot chocolate, and this November he’s spent many evenings reading and drinking cocoa, a blanket around him and soft music playing on the turntable. This must be how it feels to live a normal life, he thinks. 

Today is the third day in a row he’s gone through this little ritual, and he sighs contentedly as he settles into his favourite armchair with a big mug of hot chocolate and a John Wyndam novel. There’s not as much of it left as he thought though, and it comes to an end before he’s got even half way through his drink. Kicking off the blanket, he gets up and pads over to where he thinks he’d got it from, trying to make space on the shelf. There’s a gap, but it’s not quite big enough. He tries jamming the book in, but that doesn’t work, so he moves along the shelf, pulling books out and then looking for gaps on other shelves. Eventually he ends up on a shelf he’s never even looked at before, and as he fiddles and pushes, something catches his eye. 

Jane’s initiation is the title on the spine. He pulls the book out and almost drops it on the floor, catching it at the last minute. The cover has a woman kneeling in her underwear next to a completely naked man. Elvis blushes right up to his ears. Obviously he’s seen skin flicks and magazines, and he’s fucked plenty of girls. But something about this… novel… in his girlfriend’s apartment… well it makes him feel like a naughty little boy finding something he shouldn’t. He thinks about putting it back, but the urge to know what’s inside is stronger than the fear of being found. I’ll just read a few pages, he thinks, taking it back to the armchair. He sits down and opens it, taking a sip of his drink. 

***

Idly wondering if Elvis will be in your apartment when you open the door, you fish about in your handbag for your keys. It’s been nice having him here for the past few days, it’s like you’re in a real relationship with a normal man for a change. Well, he’s not normal. But it’s not like dating Elvis Presley, that’s for sure. And you like someone being home when you get there, someone to kiss you hello and ask how your day was. Pushing the key into the lock, you turn it and make your way inside. Still thinking about how much you like having him here, it doesn’t occur to you to call out as you kick off your shoes and walk almost silently through to the living room. He looks completely absorbed in whatever he’s reading, and you smile at him looking so domesticated with his own mug and everything. 

“Hi El,” you say, sweetly. 

Elvis actually jumps out of his skin, throwing the book in the air before clumsily catching it and trying to put it face down on the table next to him. That’s when he realises the back looks even worse than the front, so he pulls another book from the shelf behind him and puts that on top, pulling so hard he dislodges another three onto the floor. 

“Ah! Shit. Sorry, honey.” He gets up, tangled in his blanket for a moment and looking perilously like he’s about to fall, before righting himself and scooping you up into his arms. “Hi there,” he says, trying to pretend that nothing had just happened, as he kisses you tenderly. 

You giggle at the whole situation, wondering what exactly he’d been reading that had got him in such a state. “You okay?”

He hums and nods. “Better now you’re here.”

That makes you really smile, and for a few minutes you forget all about whatever he was reading and concentrate on getting to know the inside of his mouth intimately with your tongue. Pulling back with a satisfied sigh, you catch sight of the books on the floor and remember again. 

“What’ve you been reading?”

You try to move past him to look, but he keeps hold of you. “N-nothin’.”

“Nothing? You were so into whatever it was you didn’t even hear me come in!” 

You try to wriggle out of his grasp to get to it but he holds you in place. “Ah… uh… that. Yeah. Jus’ a book about football.”

“Elvis, I don’t own any books about football.”

“I, uh, brought it with me.”

You fix him with a determined look. “Stop making things up. Let me see what it is.”

“No.”

“No?”

“N-no.” He looks like a little boy now, shameful, his cheeks aflame as he looks away from you. 

“Come on,” you say, gently, stroking his face. “They’re all my books. It can’t be that bad.”

It doesn’t dawn on you what it could be until he finally gives up, letting you go, and you walk over to the table. You move the book stacked on top and see what’s underneath. 

“Elvis!” You squeak, a little embarrassed. Then you turn to look at him and realise he’s in an even worse state. 

“I-I-I jus’ f-found it an’...an’... I-I-I…”

Your eyes go wide. “Did you like it? You liked it!”

“N-no. Honey… no… I uh… no…”

Giggling, you move in front of him, holding the book, and wave it at him. “Yeah you did. How far did you get? Which bit did you like the best? Did you…” you look down, suddenly thinking of something. “Are you…?”

His hands go over his crotch and he staggers backwards, shaking his head. “No, honey. I’m not…” the backs of his legs collide with the armchair and send him flying into it, stopping his sentence in its tracks. You jump onto his lap, straddling him, not caring that your skirt has ridden up so far your panties are visible. 

“Yes you are,” you tease, pressing your forehead against his. “It’s all those dirty words. They’ve got you hot and bothered.”

His hands go to your hips as you grind against him, making him cry out. Okay, so he had got pretty hard reading that book. Pictures in magazines were one thing, but the words were what really got his motor running. 

“Alright. Ya got me bang to rights. I read it an’ I liked it.” He still won’t meet your eye, but at least he’s not stuttering now. And there’s no way he could really get that much redder. 

You bite your lip. “Oooh. You wanna read some more? Should we read it together?”

He shakes his head, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling on it. “You read it to me.”

You giggle. “How about I just make it up?” Without waiting for a response, you reach between your bodies to undo his pants. “She unzipped his pants and pulled out his giant, twitching member.” You burst into peals of laughter, so infectious that Elvis is laughing too, holding on to you for dear life as his chest heaves with amusement. 

“It’s uh, big, honey, but it’s not giant. That jus’ sounds unnatural.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll be serious,” you tell him, gently easing his dick out of his pants and starting to stroke it. “Reading that book got you all excited, didn’t it?” You press him against the outside of your panties and he groans. 

“Yeah honey, it did.”

“It made me excited too,” you tell him, your voice low and quiet. “I used to read it and touch myself.”

“Mmm, yes honey,” he mumbles, nibbling your earlobe. “Love it when ya talk ta me like this.”

“Reading it got me all wet, I’d pull up my skirt and my panties would be see-through.”

The nibbling turns to a bite as he growls at your words, and you yelp in pain. “Ow! Elvis!”

He looks at you sheepishly. “Sorry, honey. But ya gotta know the effect yer havin’ on me…”

You’re still stroking him against your panties, they’re getting pretty see-through right now too, and you’re getting pretty excited. 

“I can see the effect I’m having…” you tell him, cheekily squeezing him, “and feel it too. No need to bite my ear off.”

He nuzzles your neck and starts to kiss you there and then on your ear, mumbling his apologies as he urges you to keep going. You pant at the feeling, and the growing pleasure between your legs. 

“Don’t think I can, El…”

He catches your meaning after a few seconds and starts to rub your clit himself through your panties with his fingers. Holding onto his shoulder for balance, you moan softly as he brings you to your peak, sighing against him as he gently coaxes you through it. His lips find your ear again and he asks you to take your panties off. When you do and hold them out to him he wraps his hand around yours and then puts it back around his dick. Your eyes go wide for a moment, as you slide the panties up and down against him. 

“You like the feeling of my panties on your dick?”

He nods silently, eyes not quite meeting yours as he flushes a deep red again. The glow of your orgasm makes you even more full of love for him than usual, and you start to pepper his face with kisses as you carry on stroking him. 

“God I love touching you,” you find yourself saying, because it’s true. You love pleasuring him and kissing him and holding him. Right now, you couldn’t be happier, sitting in his lap getting him off. 

He whines. “I love it too. An’... love touchin’ ya honey. Love the feel of ya.”

You start to kiss him passionately as your hand speeds up, tongues tangling as you both moan. He pulls away and his head flops back against the chair, so close to release but not quite there yet. 

“You gonna cum all over my panties, Daddy?”

It’s like over the past few weeks you’ve been collecting all of the things you can say that are most likely to drive him crazy, because that sentence makes him groan so loudly you’re sure the neighbours will complain again. They’ve complained a few times lately, and you’re starting to wonder if you need to get him to pay for soundproofing, or buy a gag. 

“Yes… fuck… ohmygod.” 

You keep stroking him as he cums, hard and long and all over your hand and the panties. 

“Shit. Fuck,” he mumbles, pulling you against him so he can press his forehead to yours again. “Nasty mouth on ya,” he mumbles, kissing you.

“The kind of nasty mouth you want though, right?”

“God yes. Never stop.”

***

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[narrycherries]

ivy: clover blooms in the fields

she needs help and he just so happens to be the only one available..

(part 6)

mastermind / ivy series

word count: 12.3k

warnings/tags: harry x fem oc, angst, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, surgical procedure/recovery

[a/n: hi, sorry for missing a week but here u go! this is a very important part of the story so I hope u enjoy it. less angsty but still tense and frustrating for them, be patient with me we are getting to the good stuff I promise! part 7 is so good I can’t wait to give it to you!]

Waiting in a hospital room to be prepped for surgery was not how Ivy expected to spend her Wednesday evening. She had been experiencing painful aches in her stomach for the past few days, and she was familiar with the feeling but she hoped it was nothing. Maybe her period was messing up and the dates had shifted, it did that sometimes when she least expected it. The cramps and pulls of her muscles were worse than her usual period symptoms. She didn’t want to go to the emergency room, but when Emma found her in the bathroom crying her eyes out and holding her stomach, she forced her to go.

“Dad, it’s okay.” She mumbled into the phone as she closed her eyes, not wanting to be blinded by the bright hospital room lights.

Emma kept an eye on her as she sat on the uncomfortable couch across the room. She hated knowing that Ivy was feeling this bad and that she was having to have this procedure again, but she was glad to be by her side. Ivy pushed out a breath as her dad began worrying more and more.

“I can’t make it to you right now, honey. I’m.. I’m trying my best to get my boss to work with me.”

“Dad, I’m not alone. Emma’s here.. I’m going to be alright, I promise.”

“What did the doctor say? How many is it?” He was worried, and it broke her heart to know he was so far away and couldn’t get to her right now.

She took a deep breath, the pain medicine pumping through the IV in her arm was making her a little dizzy, in a good way. “Just the two.. they didn’t see any other ones.”

“I’ll try my best to-“

She cut him off. “Dad, please don’t.. it’s okay. I know you can’t change your schedule.. it’s fine, I promise. I’ll be alright. I’ve done this before.”

“You weren’t alone before.”

Her eyes opened, staring up at the ceiling. She didn’t know how to tell him any other way. She was familiar with the surgery she was going to have soon, she had been in this situation before. It wasn’t anything too serious, they caught it in time before any major issues occured. Her dad was a few hours away and she didn’t want him to try to rush to make it to her. His work schedule was tough to negotiate, so she didn’t want him to worry about it.

“Dad, please. I’m fine. I’ll call you when I get out. They said I’ll stay overnight and probably go home tomorrow afternoon.”

They went back and forth for a few more minutes, it was mostly him trying to figure how he could get to her and Ivy trying to convince him that she was going to be okay. It took a lot of bargaining, but eventually she assured him everything was fine. He didn’t want to agree to her terms, but he could tell she was getting frustrated with him. The last thing he wanted was for her to stress out and make things worse on her body. When she ended the call with her dad, her head shifted on the pillow, her eyes finding Emma.

“Is he upset?” Emma asked in a soft voice.

She sighed. “He’s not happy but.. I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, I promise I’ll do my best to help.” Emma stood up, her arms folding over her chest as she walked to the hospital bed. “I won’t leave you alone, I promise.”

“Except tonight.. you can go home. I’ll have nurses to look after me.”

“Ivy, I don’t want you to be by yourself.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want you to sleep on that couch. I’ll be fine here.”

Emma knew there wasn’t anything else she could say to change Ivy’s mind. She was rather stubborn at times. She looked around the room, her eyes scanning over the IV tube and the medical equipment surrounding the bed. She was terrified that something could go wrong, but she didn’t want to cause any more stress to Ivy’s mind.

“Okay. Just promise me you’ll call me if you need anything.”

Ivy smiled sweetly, glad to have her in the room. “I will, Em.”

Emma’s phone dinged in her back pocket, so she fished it out and read the text. “Niall says he hopes you feel better soon.”

“Thanks.. and don’t worry.. I’m not letting you miss your little trip with him.” Ivy said with a grin.

Emma’s brows furrowed. “I have to sit with you when you’re back home. Niall can plan it for another weekend.”

“No. You’re going. He’s put a lot of thought into it.”

“Ivy, your dad is going to freak out if he finds out. I can’t leave you for that long.”

She did the quick calculation in her head. Emma and Niall had a weekend trip planned for just the two of them. He wanted to take her someone nice and just enjoy time alone. They would be gone just the weekend, Friday evening to Sunday morning.

“I’ll just need help tomorrow night and Friday morning. Then I’ll be okay to move on my own. I’ve done it before.”

Emma was not pleased with what was being suggested. “No. You were just ten minutes from your dad the last time this happened.”

Ivy let out a gentle laugh, everyone was so worried for her when she wasn’t concerned at all. “I’ll be okay. I’ll be able to get out of bed by tomorrow night anyway. I’ll be fine, Emma.”

There was no more time to argue about the arrangements anymore. They’d have to continue on after the surgery was over. The nurse came in and told them it was time to get ready. Ivy wasn’t nervous, partly due to the fact she had pain medicine spilling through her body. She was calm and collected, whereas Emma was starting to worry herself into a panic. She called Niall as soon as the nurse gave her directions on where to wait. He was going to come up to the hospital if he could get someone to cover his shift at the store, he didn’t want them to be alone.

Ivy was wheeled to the operating room, where they went over everything again with her and assured her she’d be fine. It didn’t take long for them to put her to sleep and begin the surgery.

Emma’s heart was racing as she sat next to Niall, his arm secured around her shoulders as he tried his best to comfort her. She was worried beyond belief for Ivy. He was grateful that one of his employees was able to come in and take over his shift so he could be here for them. Emma was waiting half an hour before he was finally able to come.

“So.. what exactly is going on?” He asked with a bit of confusion, Emma had really explained it to him yet she just called and told him there was an emergency.

She took a deep breath and shifted so that she was leaning on him, her body feeling exhausted from all the constant worrying. “She was hurting really bad.. and when we came to the ER they did some scans and stuff. She has two cysts on her ovary.”

“Is that a bad thing? Like, are they dangerous?”

“I mean, they’re not dangerous but.. they can be. She’s had them before, a few times actually. She said they can get really big and they sorta weigh on the area. They cause crazy cramps and aches. She was hurting really bad, Niall.”

He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “But they can remove them, yeah? Get it all out before it causes any damage?”

“Yeah, they can. It’s a good thing they found them. She said sometimes cysts aren’t a big deal. I could have one right now and it could never bother me. But sometimes they just get.. in the way and cause issues.”

Niall nodded his head slowly, absorbing all the information. He wasn’t familiar with the subject matter, but he was glad that Ivy had successfully made it through this before and it didn’t sound too bad. With anything, though, it could’ve gotten worse. Ivy had a close call when she was a teenager, and that was the scariest moment of her life. Thankfully, the few other times she’s had to deal with the cysts, they’ve been much smaller and less aggressive.

“Was she scared before going back?”

Emma smiled gently at the thought of how relaxed Ivy had been. “No, she was calm. I mean.. the medicine helped that. But even before.. when they told her what was going on.. she was calm.”

“Experience plays a role in that, I’m sure.” Niall mumbled back.

“She doesn’t want me to stay with her this weekend. She wants us to go on our trip.” Emma turned her head to look at him, a pout evident on her face.

“We can reschedule, babe. I don’t mind.”

“She refuses to let me stay home. She wants us to go.”

Niall let out a sigh, not sure what he could really do about it. If Ivy didn’t want Emma to miss their trip and insisted she go, then he’d just go along with it. If Emma felt uncomfortable going out of town during her recovery, then he’d be fine with staying home. Apparently, Ivy wasn’t going to let that happen. She didn’t want them to stop their lives for her.

“If we stay home.. she might get angry with me.”

“How long do they expect her to stay here?” He asked, a thought popping into his mind. Before he could bring it up, he needed some details.

“If all goes well, she’ll be discharged tomorrow. They said it's a quick procedure with low risk complications. She’s had it before and never had an issue.” Emma said, picking at her thumbnail as she considered the what ifs.

“So.. you’ll be home tomorrow with her.. and Friday until it’s time for us to go.” Niall said, thinking his way through a plan that might benefit everyone. It would keep Ivy looked after and calm Emma’s nerves. “We can ask Michelle if she can check on her. Maybe stay with her Friday and Saturday night.”

Emma sat up, Niall’s arm falling from her shoulders. “I didn’t think about that. Do you think she’d do it?”

He laughed a little. “M’sure if we ask and she’s available, she’ll do it. She loves being around Ivy.”

“I just can’t leave her alone. I’d worry too much. Her dad can’t get out of work until Monday. She’d really be by herself, Niall.”

“We won’t let her be alone.” He assured her, reaching up to press his hand on her back. “Don’t worry too much.”

“Can you text Michelle?” The desperation in her tone made him softly smile. He was admiring her concern for Ivy, how much this was affecting her. Emma didn’t want anything to happen to her.

“Yeah.”

Her eyes went straight to the clock on the wall a cross from them, she was very impatient and wanted to know what was going on in the operating room. The doctor promised he’d let her know if anything bad was going on. She was just sick to her stomach at the thought of Ivy experiencing some kind of bad complication. Niall sent a quick text to Michelle, explaining briefly the situation they were in. He was hoping she wasn’t busy and would answer fast.

“She’s typing.” He uttered under his breath, capturing Emma’s attention.

She leaned over, her eyes burning holes through the screen of his phone. A message popped up and Niall read over it, a subtle frown shaping to his lips. Michelle was unfortunately unable to help out. She had already made a commitment to other plans for the weekend.

“Damn it.” Emma groaned, that worry building up higher and higher.

“Relax, sweetheart. I’ll see if anyone else can help out.”

Emma sat back in the chair, her head falling against the wall. She knew Ivy didn’t have anyone else in her family she would rely on during a time like this. Her dad was stuck, unable to get out of his scheduled work hours. She was the only person Ivy had that could take care of her. It was scary to think about leaving her alone.

After a little while of texting back and forth with everyone in their small circle, Niall came up short with a solution. He let out a sigh as one final idea popped into his mind. There was no other option left, aside from them staying home for the weekend. Ivy didn’t want that to happen, though. Maybe she’d change her mind if she knew what her only choice was.

“Well.. I have an idea.. but I don’t know if Ivy will like it.” Niall said as he handed Emma his phone so she could read over the text he just sent.

Her eyes widened and she looked over at him. “She’s going to hate this.”

—•—

The following day was going better than Emma ever could have imagined. Ivy was awake eating some of the soft foods the hospital provided for her, since she couldn’t eat a lot for a couple of days. She was in a rather pleasant mood, despite all she had gone through in the past few days. Ivy had been checked out by her doctor just an hour ago and he assured them that she was on the right path of healing. Her incision was looking well. Luckily, they didn’t have to add another scar to her body. They were able to go through the healed cut from her last surgery. She knew how to take care of it, how to make sure it stayed clean. They approved her discharge for later in the evening.

“Niall’s going to come get us and take us home.” Emma said with a hesitant voice, she hadn’t mentioned the arrangement Niall made for Ivy yet. “He can help you get inside and to the bedroom.”

“Okay, thanks. I really appreciate it.” She smiled back, content with the idea.

The only thing Emma could come up with as a lie. “Niall’s going to see if Alyssa can come over while we’re gone and check on you.”

Ivy nodded. “That would be nice.”

“He’s waiting for her to get back to him.” Emma continued her lie.

“This morning when they came in before you got here.. they told me I might experience some soreness for a few days, but they’re giving me a prescription for pain medicine. I don’t want you to worry too much about me.”

Emma sighed. “I have to worry, Ivy.”

“I’ll be okay.” She tried to give her a comforting smile, but she could tell Emma was stressed.

As much as Ivy wanted to keep assuring her everything would turn out fine in the end, she didn’t want to upset her. So, they both went quiet and just watched whatever was playing on the television hanging on the wall. Ivy didn’t know how her pain tolerance would be once she was out of the hospital, but she was hoping it was good. She never had any recovery problems with her previous surgeries, so she highly assumed this one would be good, too.

While they waited for the discharge to begin, she got a call from her dad who was still very much upset over the whole situation. Ivy calmed him down though by letting him know someone would be taking care of her over the weekend. She mentioned Emma, even though she wouldn’t be there, just to make sure her dad knew someone would be there. If he knew Emma was leaving, he would just freak out more.

After the call ended, she closed her eyes just to relax and sink back into her thoughts for a bit. Her dad wasn’t very emotional with her while she was growing up, and it got worse once her brother passed. But that didn’t necessarily mean he didn’t care about her, of course he did. He just had an odd way of showing it most of the time. Now, he was very worried and made sure to let her know he was going to come see her as soon as he could. She was grateful for his care, but she didn’t want to disturb his life. Just like with Emma and Niall, she didn’t want them to cancel their plans just to sit with her for a few days. She hated feeling like a burden, and she tried her best to explain that to Emma.

In the late afternoon, when everything was finalized with her discharge, Niall came to pick the girls up from the hospital. He had dropped Emma off that morning, so she didn’t have a way back anyway. He assisted the nurse in getting Ivy safely into the car from the wheelchair they brought her out in. Emma insisted she sit in the front since it would be easier to get out of the car once they got home. Ivy didn’t want to at first, but Niall gave her no choice.

He shut the door and met Emma at the back of the car. “Have you told her yet?”

She shook her head, keeping her voice to a whisper just in case. “No.. I’m waiting until tomorrow.”

Niall sighed. “Why? What if she doesn’t want it to happen?”

“Then we’ll stay home this weekend and reschedule.”

He wasn’t thrilled with Emma’s decision to hold off on the conversation he deemed to be very important, but he didn’t intervene. They both got in the car and soon started the trip back to their house. Ivy was comfortable for now, the pain medicine numbing any possible aches in her stomach. She felt odd riding in the car after getting so used to sitting in a bed, but she was ready to be home. The hospital bed was not as comfortable as her own, plus she wanted to be surrounded by her personal belongings and not light grey walls and sanitized counters.

It was nerve wracking trying to help Ivy get inside and to her bedroom, but Niall tried his best to be gentle with her. Emma held the door open, watching carefully as Niall guided her in. He was much stronger than Emma and could hold Ivy upright, assisting her as she walked carefully step by step. She wasn’t trying to rush inside, she was patient with herself and glad that Niall was, too.

“Sorry, Niall.” She muttered out as he finally got over the threshold of the door.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re doing fine.” He assured her as Emma moved behind them to shut the door.

She quickly ran to Ivy’s room to open the door. She cut on the light and went to the bed, pulling the covers back and adjusting the pillows so she’d be comfortable. Niall was moving at Ivy’s slow pace, reminding her every few moments that she was doing well. He didn’t want her to get into a hurry and hurt herself. Emma was making sure things were tidy in her room, just in case there were clothes laying around she figured Ivy wouldn’t want Niall to see. But her room was clean and there was nothing in the way. She looked around, thinking of other things she can do to help out.

They finally made it to the bedroom, Niall’s arm still wrapped around Ivy’s waist as he helped her make it to the bed. She let him go and carefully sat down on the side of the bed, a small grunt coming from her mouth.

“That wasn’t so bad, yeah?” He said with a smile as she looked up at him, she appeared to be exhausted.

“It was alright.”

“Do you want me to get you anything right now?” Emma asked as she watched her scoot back in the bed, trying to find a comfortable spot.

Ivy winced, her stomach slightly aching from all the moving around. “No, not right now.”

“Remember to move around as much as you can.” Niall said, giving her a stern look. “You don’t need to sit here all weekend.”

She let out a laugh. “I know, I know. But right now.. I need to rest.”

After a few moments, she got adjusted in the bed and felt like she could actually relax and hopefully get some sleep. She didn’t need to sleep all day, nor sit in the bed. The doctor made it clear that she needed to move around and be active when she could, but it was okay to rest when she needed to. She was familiar with the recovery plan and kept in mind all the things she did previously.

“Do you girls need anything else?” Niall asked.

Emma shook her head. “I don’t. Ivy?”

“No, I’m okay. Thanks, Niall, for helping.” She gave him a polite smile.

“No worries. If you need anything, let me know.”

Emma walked Niall to the door, telling him multiple times how grateful she was for his help. He was glad to know he could be of assistance. They hugged and said their goodbyes, but not before Niall reminded her she needed to tell Ivy the plan soon. She ignored him and said she’d get to it eventually. Once he was gone, Emma returned to Ivy’s room with a reusable bottle full of ice water and a small notebook.

“Alright.. tell me some things you want me to get at the grocery store. I know you’ll need some softer foods for a while.” She said as she sat down at Ivy’s vanity, a pen in her hand as she was waited to start the list.

Ivy tried to tell her it wasn’t a big deal and she could eat what was in the house already, but Emma wasn’t going to accept that. She wanted to make sure she had everything Ivy needed and wanted for the weekend. So, after a bit of nagging, Ivy finally gave in and listed off some items.

—•—

Ivy let out a grunt as she stood up from the toilet. She was not having a good day at all. The morning was tough, she tried to get up and move around the house but every step she took sent a shock wave of pain through her body. She didn’t wake Emma up, just suffered on her own as she tried to scramble a couple of eggs. Emma did get up when she smelled the food, rushing to find Ivy leaning on the counter with her face scrunched up, holding in the pain.

She was not pleased with Ivy doing all this work on her own, despite her claiming she was fine. Emma finished the cooking and then helped her back to the bedroom afterwards. They sat in her bedroom for a while, talking about different things to try and distract her from the uncomfortable feelings. Emma was deeply concerned about her, but Ivy kept pushing it off.

After refusing to eat anything for lunch, Ivy tried to make it to the bathroom to get in the shower. Although the doctor approved her for taking one after Emma insisted she call and double check, Ivy was being talked out of it. Emma was terrified she’d lose her balance and be too weak to catch herself, resulting in her falling and hurting herself even more. She tried her best to convince Emma it would be fine, but she lost the battle. Emma said she should just wait until the next day. She helped Ivy wash up with a wet hand towel, but Ivy wasn’t pleased with the outcome. She wanted to be clean.

Niall was supposed to come pick Emma up for the trip in an hour, so she figured it would be best to mention the plan to Ivy. She tapped on the door and heard a quiet ‘come in’. Emma put on a smile as she saw that Ivy was sitting up in the bed, her journal resting on her lap. She was glad to see she had busied herself with something.

“Hey, feeling okay?” Emma’s smile dropped to frown as Ivy’s head lifted and she saw how sad she looked. “Ivy, what’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “ I.. I thought I’d feel better.. but I don’t know. I’m really sore.” Ivy had tears swelling in her eyes as she pressed her hand over her covered incision.

“Do you want me to stay home?” Emma felt like she was letting her down. “I swear, it’s no big deal.”

“No, Emma.” She whined out, squeezing her eyes shut as a wave of dull pain flooded through her torso. It was much more bearable than the aches the cysts had caused. “You said.. something about.. Alyssa coming over? I can.. I can pay her.”

A lump began to grow in Emma’s throat as reality was quickly crashing in It was no longer an option to keep the secret from her. Guilt was building in her gut as she realized she shouldn’t have waited this long to begin with. Ivy didn’t notice how nervous Emma got, her eyes were closed as she tried to fight through the pain.

“Well, she can’t. Niall asked around and.. everyone is unavailable.. except.. one person.” Emma’s voice trailed off to a whisper.

“Who is it?” Ivy’s brain was so fogged from all the medicine and the uncomfortable sensations happening in her body that she couldn’t come up with any ideas on her own. She tried to think of people she knew, but she was coming up short.

Emma started to fumble with her own fingers, a nervous feeling taking over. “Ivy, I.. I think I should just stay. You’re not going to like the idea.”

Ivy groaned at the mention of the trip being canceled. “I don’t care who it is, Emma. Just need someone to check on me.”

There was a quiet moment that seemed to last forever. Emma had to gather up the courage to finally tell Ivy what was going to happen while they were gone. There was no turning back now.

Niall chuckled as Ivy pushed out a huff once she landed softly on the couch. She wanted to get out of the bed for a while and attempt to move around. She figured it wouldn’t be hard to navigate from the couch to the kitchen. Emma came in with her bag, sitting it next to the door before going to give Ivy a hug.

“I’ll text you as much as I can.” She whispered into her ear before standing up.

“Don’t spend your whole trip thinking about me.” Ivy grinned, shifting her eyes to Niall. “Keep her occupied.”

A smirk shaped to his lips. “That’s the goal.”

“We’ll check in.” Emma added, still nervous about leaving her.

Ivy opened her mouth to say something back, but a knock on the door stopped her. Niall looked over his shoulder, already knowing who was behind the door. He walked away from the girls to answer it. Everyone seemed to be a tad bit on edge, especially Ivy, who’s smile faded to a straight line on her face. Her eyes moved down to her own lap, looking at her chipped nail polish.

“Hey.” Niall’s voice filled the quiet room. “Thanks for coming over.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.”

The remnants of physical pain were pushed aside as anxiety claimed possession of Ivy’s body. She never thought she��d hear Harry’s deep voice roll through her house like thunder filling a stormy sky. She held her breath as footsteps tracked in. Niall shut the door and turned to face him. Emma just stared at Ivy, trying to figure out how she was feeling.

Harry was their only option. Everyone else had things they couldn’t get out of for the weekend. Earlier, when Emma told Ivy about Harry, she figured her mind would change and the plans with Niall would be rearranged for another time. But Ivy didn’t cave in to the fear. She was determined to not let herself care or worry about it. He was just going to check on her, surely she could handle that.

She was listening as Niall was explaining to him what all he needed to do and what he needed to watch out for. He mentioned how the soreness and pain could come in sudden waves. Ivy wasn’t too concerned with what Niall was saying until a specific response from Harry made her head spin towards them.

“So, I’m staying the weekend, right?”

“Yeah. Emma’s gonna grab some blankets for you before we leave. Couch is actually comfortable. I’ve napped on it a few times.”

Ivy interrupted the conversation, her voice wasn’t as loud as she hoped but she still caught their attention. “Nobody said anything about staying the night.”

“Ivy, you can’t be alone right now.” Emma started, carefully resting her hand on Ivy’s leg. “You hardly made it to the bathroom by yourself earlier. I don’t want you to fall or trip or anything like that. If you get stronger by tomorrow, then he can go home and just stop by.”

“Nobody asked me about this.”

Emma felt a punch to her gut, she had made another mistake. “I know, I’m sorry. Please don’t be upset. Ivy, you can't be by yourself right now.”

“You’re a lot weaker than you might realize, Ivy.” Niall walked over to them, a half smile on his face as he tried to be helpful and not make things worse. “If someone is here to help you walk around, you can build your strength up a lot quicker.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior.” Harry took a few steps forward, his eyes landing on Ivy as he spoke. “As promised.”

“He won’t do anything stupid or I’ll kick his ass.” Niall gave her a chuckle, and it actually made her smile. “And.. there’s something he has to say to you.”

Watching Niall give Harry a stern look pulled a giggle from her, she was amused by how Niall acted like a father figure in this moment. Emma couldn’t help but laugh, too. Harry rolled his eyes and gave Niall a lift of his middle finger. Niall just smirked and crossed his arms, waiting for the statement he made Harry agree to give.

Ivy’s heart skipped a beat as Harry’s eyes moved back onto her. She didn’t know what to expect from him. This entire situation was insane, she couldn’t wrap her head around it. How did she end up in this predicament? Nobody else could stay with her aside from him, that was just her luck..

“I’m sorry for.. yelling at you. I was drunk and overreacted.” He said, not too thrilled about having to apologize to the girl but glad he finally got it off his chest. Even if it wasn’t his initial idea to say it, he wanted to..

Her mind brought up memories of that night just a few weeks ago. She so easily remembered the anger that covered his face and the loud yells that he couldn’t seem to hold back. She wanted to be furious with him now like she had then, and the days following when her diary caught hell about it. But she couldn't find it in her to be angry at this very moment. Perhaps it was the medicine lurking in her veins, clouding her judgement and making her more susceptible to being nice.

“It’s alright.” She finally mumbled out, her eyes falling from his.

“Good, now everyone’s back on good terms.” Niall clapped his hands together. “Let me show you where everything is.”

Niall gestured for Harry to follow him down the hall, leaving the girls alone. Emma instantly turned to Ivy and started to apologize.

“I’m sorry. I really am, Ivy. I know you.. you can’t stand to be around him, but please, please just let him look after you.” She was trying to make up for everything, despite Ivy actually not being that mad. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

She let a smile cover her lips. “Emma, it’s okay.”

“Are you sure? God, that medicine must be strong.”

“Yeah, I think it’s working too well.”

They shared a laugh, even though it hurt Ivy to contract the muscles in her stomach. She pushed her hair out of her face, wishing it was pulled back altogether. The plan to have Harry stick around for a few days was not something she would have come up with on her own, but she was somewhat glad he was going to be there. As much as she tried to act like she was fine all day, it was tough on her body. She was struggling, no matter how hard she tried to lie to Emma and Niall, it was painful to move sometimes. The medicine only worked for so long, and there was a waiting period she had to take in between doses. It was going to be a long weekend, but at least she wouldn’t be alone..

After they left, Ivy started to regret agreeing to let Harry be the one to look after her. His imposing stature and cold demeanor were already seeping into every inch of her home. There was an obvious opposition from him, his presence alone was causing resentment. She tried her best to look past it, hoping maybe he’d warm up to her and get used to be in her home. When she stopped by his shared space with Niall that time, she felt awkward being in their home. Perhaps this behavior was normal in a different way for him.

He sat down in the armchair adjacent to her, his body falling against the back of the chair and his hands hitting his thighs. He looked around, somewhat curious about the room. Without looking her way, he spoke.

“So, what’s the plan? What am I supposed to do?”

She took a deep breath and remained courageous - this was her home after all, he couldn’t intimidate her here. “I have two rules. One, don’t come in my room.”

He let out a short laugh. “How am I supposed to check on you if I can’t come in your room?”

“Knock and I’ll come to the door, I need to move around anyway.”

Harry lifted his brows, not sure why she was making this more difficult than it had to be. “You could fall, you know. That’s the point of me being here.. to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

Ivy rolled her eyes. “I’ll be fine. I can make it to the door.”

“Whatever, what’s the second rule?”

She was somewhat surprised he was engaging in a conversation with her, but it was obvious they couldn’t get away with ignoring each other this time. He still wasn’t looking at her, he opted to stare at the books on the coffee table that were neatly stacked. He figured they were just for decoration, but he had a small wonder if they had been read by her eyes

“Don’t wake me up. If I’m asleep, just leave me alone.”

He made a confused expression. “How will I know if you’re awake or not if I can’t open the door?”

“Text me. I’ll have my phone next to me the whole time.” Her sass returned to her tone.

He smirked lightly, but she wasn’t paying him any visual attention. “I don’t have your number.”

“Well, give me your phone.”

Harry was amused by her quick and sharp replies. He was used to her hesitant mumbles and nervous glances. He stood up and reached into his pocket for his phone, quickly unlocking it before handing it to her. He watched as she opened his contacts and added her name and number into a new listing.

“There, now you have it.”

He sighed as he sat back down. “There’s only two rules?”

She pursed her lips as she thought about it. “For now, yeah.”

“Alright, well.. what do you want to do? Stay here or go to your room?” Harry didn’t quite know what to expect from her, but he assumed she wouldn’t want to be around him.

“Stay here for now.” She said, picking up the remote from beside her.

He rose to his feet again. “I gotta go get my bag. Don’t fall off the couch before I get back.”

A chuckle rolled past his lips as she snarled her lip and rolled her eyes at him, finding no humor in his comment.

He was only gone a few short minutes, but Ivy couldn’t help herself from getting lost in her thoughts. She didn’t want to think about him, didn’t want to get so obsessed with her admiration for him. Why wasn’t he being more rude to her? Why wasn’t he treating her like he usually did? Was he doing this only because he owed Niall a favor?

When Harry came back in, he dropped his bag next to the armchair and sat down again, this time his eyes shifted to where Ivy was placed on the couch. Before he could say something, she blurted out a sentence.

“I don’t think I need much help.. I don’t know why they insisted on someone being here.”

He furrowed his brows slightly. “Niall said your knees were weak and shaking when you got out of bed earlier. Sounds to me like you need help.”

She crossed her arms on her chest, avoiding his eyes. “My legs were asleep.. that’s all.”

“Sure.” His response was sarcastic, but the words that followed seemed more genuine. “What happened to you anyway?”

She turned her head, meeting the stare she could feel burning through her skin. “I had emergency surgery.. I had a few cysts that were hurting me. Niall didn’t tell you?”

He shook his head, changing his stare to just a gaze as he blinked. “He didn’t specify.. said he didn’t want to tell your business without your consent.”

Ivy was appreciative of that. As much as she trusted Niall and wouldn’t have minded if he told everyone what happened, she was glad he was mindful of her privacy. She decided to look away from him.

“It’s nothing serious.. I’ve had them before. Sometimes they become aggressive and have to come out.”

“Where were they?”

“Um, on my ovary.”

Harry listened with more intensity than he ever had when it came to her. He wanted to understand what was going on in case an emergency unfolded while he was on duty here. Plus, he’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t concerned for her. She is a human being after all, not just a soulless body.

“But you’re alright? Like.. they’re not tumors?”

Ivy felt a spark go off in her chest. Why did he seem so concerned? No, she was just overthinking it. She had an emergency surgery, people were going to be curious about the reason. She pushed aside the feeling and let out a soft sigh.

“No, they’re not tumors.”

He went quiet after that, just gave her a nod when she glanced his way. There was still apprehension radiating from her, still that what if feeling. What if she said something he didn’t like and he went off on her? What if he was just pretending to care so he can use it against her when he’s mean to her again? What if he actually cared..

Neither of them spoke for over an hour and a half. Ivy kept her eyes on the television and Harry stayed on his phone, mindlessly scrolling. She didn’t want to be the one to break the silence. He ended up asking her if she wanted anything to eat, but she said she was fine and she ate earlier. That was a lie. She was too nervous to eat. He made sure she didn’t want anything a few minutes later, double checking just in case she changed her mind. She hated feeling like a bother, she didn’t want to burden him with making her food. She assured him she was fine.

It wasn’t much longer when she stretched her arms above her head and yawned, catching his attention. She shifted closer to the edge of the couch, about to stand up when Harry got up to help her. He held his hand out, but she just looked up at him.

“M’fine.”

He sighed lightly. “Do you need my help?”

As she stood up, still ignoring his hand, she turned away from him so she could head towards her room. “No.. just walk behind me.”

Harry rolled his eyes as he took a step closer to her, she wasn’t moving very fast so he didn’t have to go far. “You don’t need to risk falling.”

“I’m okay.”

“Why are you being so stubborn?”

Ivy grunted, wanting to scream but she refrained. “Because I had surgery on my stomach, not my legs. It was a minimally invasive procedure.. they didn’t chop me up.”

She was glad he didn’t give her a snarky remark. He stayed behind her, his hand out in case he needed to grab her, and followed her to her room. Ivy’s steps were delicate, her eyes glued to the floor. She was able to walk on her own, but after a few feet her legs began to get weak. She stopped to take a quick break.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.” She quickly said, squeezing her eyes shut.

She had to gather up all her strength before walking again. This time she was moving faster, in hopes to get it over with. The doctor instructed her to walk as much as she could to gain her energy. While her legs weren’t operated on, the scar on her lower torso was painful as her body shifted - each press of her foot to the floor created pressure.

“Okay. See, I made it.” She said with a sigh of relief as she reached her bedroom door.

He moved beside her so he could see her face. “And you’re sure you can make it to your bed?”

“Yes.”

Harry didn’t believe her, but he wasn’t going to go against her rule. She didn’t want him in her private space, and he was going to respect that wish. Maybe her bed was close to the door and she could get there quickly?

“Alright.”

She turned the handle, about to push the door open, when she stopped and looked up at him. “Did they give you the pillow and blankets?”

“Yeah.”

“If you get cold.. you can turn the air up.”

He gave her a nod. “Alright, but I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll, um, text you when I get up.”

Harry licked his lips quickly. “Call me.. in case I’m asleep.”

“Okay. Thanks for sort of helping me.” She shrugged her shoulders, then slipped into her room, shutting the door behind her.

As much as he wanted to wait until he knew she was in the bed, he didn’t want to intrude on her privacy, so he went back to the living room. He shut off the lights after laying the covers on the couch. It felt odd to be on a couch, but he easily got comfortable. Ivy was already bundled under blankets. She drank a bit of water with her nighttime dose of pain medicine, getting in a comfortable position so she wasn’t hurting. Before long, they were both asleep.

—•—

Ivy hoped it had all been a dream, that none of it ever happened. Her stomach wasn’t healing from a surgical cut, her body wasn’t exhausted, and Harry wasn’t in her living room sleeping on the couch. But unfortunately for her, it was all real. A groan slipped through her lips as her phone buzzed on the nightstand, the volume was purposely lowered so that nobody would disturb her slumber. She wanted to sleep in as long as possible so she could be away from Harry. To her dismay, his name was lit up on the screen when she brought it close to her eyes.

She answered with a groggy voice. “Hello?”

“Are you awake?”

She huffed back. “I am now.”

“You need to come eat something. What do you want?” He said through a sigh, hoping she wouldn’t be as difficult today as she had been the evening before.

“Nothing.. M’not hungry.”

“It’s past eleven.. you need to come eat something.”

She felt like she could sleep for another ten hours, but she knew she couldn’t do that. She had to get up and be active, it was the only way she would get her energy back to normal.

“I don’t want anything.” She told him again. “But m’getting up.”

“Are you coming out of your room?” He asked with a less stern voice than he had been using.

“Yeah. I can’t lay down all day.”

“Alright.”

She wondered if he would just come to her door if she had to ask him, since she was so insistent on not needing any help before. She could tell she would be weak once her feet hit the floor.

“Can you.. come to my room?”

“Yeah, that’s my job, isn’t it?” He wasn’t cocky with his words, he spoke in a normal tone.

She smiled softly. “Yes.”

“Then I’ll be right there.” She swore she could hear a smile.

Ivy hung up after that, telling him she needed a few minutes to get dressed. She knew she’d have to use the bathroom before she went to the living room, so she tried to mentally prepare for that. It didn’t take her very long to put on a tshirt and a pair of cotton shorts, something she’d be comfortable in all day. She moved carefully as she dressed and soon found herself at the door. She wasn’t feeling too bad yet, but she knew she’d need to take the medicine before she left the room.

She held back a groan as she twisted around to go back to the nightstand where the orange bottle was waiting for her. She took one of the pain medication pills, making a mental note of the time so she wouldn’t take it too early later on. Finally, she made it back to the door where Harry had been waiting with his shoulder pressed against the hallway wall.

“Admitting to yourself that you need help today?” He said with a smirk she didn’t find appealing.

“M’tired, not weak.” She muttered out as he bent his arm and stuck it out for her. “I need to use the bathroom.”

Ivy tried to be confident with her movements, hoping to not make a big deal out of it in her head. So, she grabbed onto the inside of his elbow and secured her other hand on his forearm, holding on so that he could assist her to the bathroom. He led her at a steady, slow pace so that she wouldn’t trip over her feet. She was mindful of her steps, glancing down every so often to check her footing. She slipped off his arm as she reached the bathroom, leaving him in the hall to wait patiently. As much as he didn’t want to be here, he wasn’t completely irritated by having to help her. He wouldn’t want someone to leave him alone if he were in a similar situation, and just because they didn’t get along doesn’t mean he wanted the girl to get hurt even more.

“Have you decided to eat now?” He said as she came out of the bathroom.

She pushed out a deep breath. “No.”

He shook his head lightly, not believing her at all. He let her take his arm again, she returned to the same position. It wasn’t as awkward as either of them expected it to be. She was focused on not falling or straining her stomach, instead of on the fact she was touching his very strong, toned arm. And Harry was just watching her closely, not thinking about anything other than not letting her fall. He knew he’d be quick enough to catch her before she hit the ground.

When they got to the living room, he guided her to the couch and she chose the spot on the left side so she could prop up against the corner. He asked her if she needed anything and her only request was a cup of ice water. She was very content with his decent behavior, he didn’t seem to be as vicious as he normally was.

“Have you taken your medicine?” Harry asked as he sat down in the armchair, claiming the spot as his own for the time being.

Ivy was looking at the neatly stacked pile of the two blankets and pillow that he used to sleep with last night. It sat perfectly on the other end of the couch. She shifted her eyes to him, realizing how far away he was.

“Yeah, I took it before I left my room.”

He slowly nodded, looking down at his phone for a moment before moving his eyes up. “I don’t want this to be weird for you.”

Her brows dropped a little. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable in your own home. I know this.. isn’t what you wanted to happen, and you probably don’t want me around, but I don’t want you to feel awkward about it.”

Ivy was slightly taken aback by what he was saying. He didn’t give her the impression of being someone who considered another’s feelings or thoughts. She looked away from him the moment he ran his hand through his long hair, pushing it back from his face. What could she say that was nice and not rude in any way? She didn’t want to be unintentionally mean.

“I mean it’s not.. my ideal situation, but it’s fine. I’m kinda glad someone’s here with me. I’m not uncomfortable.”

He was no longer looking at her either. “I know we don’t necessarily get along, but I just want you to know I wouldn’t do anything on purpose to make you uncomfortable while I’m here.”

“Harry, I’m not uncomfortable. I have to get used to it, yeah, but it’s not that bad. Like I said, I’m glad I have some help. I.. I’m a bit worse off than I thought I’d be.”

He was silent for a long moment, making her fear that she didn’t say what he wanted to hear. What if he blew all this out of proportion and left her stranded? A nervous feeling bubbled in her gut, was he going to get frustrated if they kept talking about this? It wasn’t an easy conversation and she knew he didn’t handle that sort of thing well.

“I’ll do my best to help, but I’ll give you some space.” He sat up in the chair, about to stand but he stopped when she looked towards him.

“Are you leaving?” Her voice had softened since the last time she spoke.

“No, I’m just going to sit at the table for a while.” He made it to his feet this time. “I’ve got something I need to work on.”

“Okay.” She watched as he reached into his bag and pulled out a thick book she thought resembled a journal.

Harry gave her one last look before he walked past her, heading to the kitchen. Ivy was confused to say the least. What he brought up sounded so sincere and serious. She was surprised by it, but she was glad he said what he said. Maybe he didn’t hate her that much after all? It was evident he knew they shared a lot of tension.. but perhaps it was more bearable than she thought.

For almost an hour, Harry sat at the table and quietly wrote in his journal. Ivy wasn’t sure what exactly he was writing, and she didn’t dare ask him. Maybe it was something personal or just work related. She kept her eyes on the movie she picked to watch, but after a while her stomach started to grumble. She bit down on her cheek as she felt a layer of drowsiness fall over her brain. She was feeling the effects of the medication, the subtle pain from her incision was gone for now and her brain was a tad foggy.

She couldn’t stand it anymore, she needed something to eat. She thought about getting up, but she was entirely too comfortable. She had maneuvered herself on the couch so her legs were stretched out and she was leaning into the corner, a throw blanket over her.

“Harry.” She said his name, but she was unaware of just how soft she was speaking.

He didn’t answer her right away as she expected, so she tried again. Maybe he was focused and just didn’t hear her.

“Harry.” Her chirp was more audible this time.

“Yes?” He called back from the kitchen, his eyes lifting up to peer her way.

The open layout made it easy for him to see her from the small table. She hadn’t moved at all, she was in the same spot as when he looked at her the last time. He gave her glances every now and then to make sure she was alright. She was talking again, but he couldn’t hear her over the television. He stood up and started the short trip to the living room. She furrowed her brows and frowned as she realized he wasn’t talking back to her. Just as she was about to move to sit up, he appeared in front of her.

“I couldn’t hear you.” He said, his towering height made her feel small.

“M’kinda hungry.” She mumbled out, her eyes were wider than usual, her lips rolled to a pout.

“What would you like?”

“I dunno.”

He was being patient with her, since it was obvious her mentality had changed slightly. He could tell she was drowsy. He wasn’t a stranger to the common side effects of painkillers, so he easily recognized she was experiencing them.

“Pick something. You need to eat.”

Ivy rolled her lips in as she thought for a minute about the options. She could eat solid food by now, it had been long enough since the surgery but she didn’t want something that was too heavy as she was dealing with gentle waves of nausea.

“Can you make me some oatmeal?”

He couldn’t resist the subtle smile that tugged on his lips. “Where’s the stuff in the cabinets?”

She shook her head. “We have some packets.”

“You want instant oatmeal?” He asked with a light laugh.

She felt a little unsure about his reply, it made her feel silly. Was he making fun of her? Of course, it was just the worry in her mind mixed with the dazing effect of the medicine that was causing this.

“Yes.. The apple cinnamon one if there’s any left. That’s my favorite.”

Harry realized she was speaking very calm and gentle, like she was unable to speak any louder. Her eyes had dropped to her lap where she rubbed her fingers against the back of her other hand. This wasn’t the usual girl he was used to dealing with - even when she became shy with him, she was never this quiet. Her demeanor was very different, more fragile than ever before. He didn’t want to risk talking too harsh to her, so he tried his best to stay calm and on a level she would appreciate.

“I could make you some fresh oatmeal, you know.” He tried offering.

She frowned. “No, I want the packet, please.”

He let out a soft sigh. “Okay, where are they at?”

“The pantry.. next to the cereal.”

A feeling he so rarely got occurred when she tilted her head back and looked at him - a feeling he had only a few times, all to which were because of her. A flutter in his heart nearly stopped it, his chest tightened and he felt his lungs weighing down. Something about the way she looked at him, her face so softened, her eyes wide - she looked like an angel.

“Alright.” He managed to get out something. “Do you want me to add any sugar?”

She considered it, but shook her head. “No, but just a little bit of extra cinnamon.”

“Okay.”

“Thanks, Harry.” She whispered to him.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

Ivy waited patiently as Harry microwaved the oatmeal for her. He wasn’t too keen on her eating the prepackaged stuff when he was perfectly capable of cooking it fresh for her, but it was her choice. She seemed to be used to it, especially her favorite kind. He was just glad she was finally eating something.

When he brought it to her, he made sure to ask if she needed anything else. She requested a banana from the basket on the island, so he went and got it for her.

“Thanks.” She muttered as she sat the banana next to her.

“You’re welcome.”

“Thanks for making this.” She said, sniffing the oatmeal she scooped onto the spoon. “It smells good.”

“You don’t have to thank me for everything.” He reminded her.

She didn’t say anything, just gave him a glance before focusing on the oatmeal. She had to blow on the spoonfuls to cool them down. Harry had already walked back to the table when she called his name, turning her head to look for him.

“Yeah?” He hadn’t sat down yet, so he made his way back to her.

“Can you get me a napkin?”

He nodded, turning back to go to the kitchen. He was actually glad she was utilizing him, he didn’t want her to be nervous to ask him to do something. When he gave her the napkin, she mumbled a soft thank you in return.

Ivy ate the oatmeal slowly, savoring the bites each time. Harry had returned to the table, picking up where he left off with whatever he was writing. After sitting for a bit once the food was gone, she realized she needed to use the bathroom, all the water she had been drinking was catching up to her.

“Harry.” She called his name, this time turning her head in his direction.

“Yeah?”

“I need to use the bathroom. Can you help me?”

He got up from the table and walked over to her again, giving her a confirming nod. She was able to stand up on her own, but her legs were feeling stiff as if they couldn’t move. She chose not to say anything and just started to walk. Harry kept a close distance, holding his hand out behind her in case he had to catch her. She made it past the couch, but that was it.

“Wait, Harry.” She froze, looking over her shoulder.

“What is it?” He asked with a drop of his brows. “Are you hurting?”

“I don’t feel.. as strong as I thought.” Ivy gave him a slightly worried look.

“I’ll help you.”

Harry gently pressed his hand to her lower back, then placed his other on her elbow to guide her. She was nervous at first, but she took a few steps. She was grateful there was no pain right now, but the fear of her legs giving out was just as scary. But she couldn’t give up, she needed to move around.

“Go on, you’re alright.” He said in a calm voice as she tried to stop.

“I don’t wanna fall.” She whined softly as they freed toward the hallway. They weren’t far from the bathroom, yet she was taking her time.

“You won’t. I’m right here.” He tried to assure her, but she was not trusting her legs.

Ivy felt a wave of anxiety flood her body. “Harry, don’t let me fall.”

Harry took a deep breath, his patience was fine, he was just disappointed that he couldn’t help her more. He slid his hand to her waist to give her more support.

“I won’t let you fall, love. You’re fine. I got you.” The words that came from his mouth made her heart drop.

What did he just call her? No, there was no need to overreact. He said it so casually, like it was a fixed word in his vocabulary. He must say it a lot or use it in a friendly way.. Ivy couldn’t wrap her head around it. She swallowed hard, trying to think of anything else. She failed at doing so.

After a couple slow minutes of her trying to gain strength, they finally made it to the bathroom. Harry let her go and opened the door for her.

“I’ll walk back in here.” He mumbled to her as she stepped over the threshold.

“Why?”

A smile pulled on his lips. “Give you some privacy.”

“Oh.. right.”

Once she handled her business and washed her hands, Ivy stood at the sink and stared at her reflection. Her hair was messy, most likely tangled up. She saw how tired her eyes appeared. She felt unclean. The routine of showering had been disrupted by the surgery. She hasn’t been able to submerge her sewn incision yet, so having a hot bubble bath was out of the picture. Maybe she can gather enough energy to shower before bed tonight.

When she opened the door and peeped her head out, she was somewhat disappointed by not seeing Harry. He wasn’t lying about stepping away to give her some personal time alone. She licked her lips and called out for him.

“Harry.. I’m done.”

He appeared in the hallway, walking straight towards her. She was relieved to know he was there. While it was not too hard of a task for her to walk on her own, the fear of tripping or losing her balance was frightening.

Harry assisted her back to the living room. She chose the same spot on the couch to sit down on. He asked her if she needed anything, but she didn’t. He was about to walk back to the kitchen when she said his name.

“Harry.” Her voice was as soft as ever.

He realized she had never said his name as much to him as she has today. He liked the way it rolled off her tongue, how sweet it sounded in her voice. It was hard to not think about that.

“Yeah?”

Ivy’s eyes fell from him. “M’sorry if I’ve been mean since you got here.”

He kept a gentle smile on despite her not looking. “I wouldn't say you’ve been mean.”

She huffed, pulling the blanket up to her collar bones. “You’re being really nice to me with helping and all that and I don’t wanna be mean.”

Harry had to keep in mind that her medicine was making her somewhat loopy. She wasn’t the bold, energetic girl he knew she could be. She wasn’t even the super shy, locked away girl he’d witnessed either. She was soft and quiet and delicate.. He didn’t want to say anything wrong or that would make her believe she’s right.

“You haven’t been mean, Ivy.”

There it was again, that little spark in heart that popped in whenever he said her name. She nodded softly, and surprisingly moved her gaze back to his.

“Can.. can you tell me something.. before you go back in there?”

Harry didn’t know what to expect. “I guess, what is it?”

Maybe it was the medicine that made her so open with him right now. She didn’t have to battle with her anxiety or face any worrying thoughts. She was free to just speak to him like nothing else mattered.

“The other night.. why did you.. get so mad at Cory?”

The question rubbed him the wrong way. He didn’t want to hash it up again. He shook his head and tore his eyes away from her.

“Ivy, I don’t want to talk about it.”

She hesitated at first, unsure if he would get angry at her right now. She was in such a vulnerable state, surely he’d show her some grace. “I.. I just want to know.. were you mad at me?”

Harry didn’t want to get into it. “No, I wasn’t.”

“You.. you screamed at me.” She mumbled right back.

“And I apologized to you.”

It didn’t go unnoticed by either of them that the volume of his voice increased slightly. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she stared down at the coffee table. Maybe asking him that wasn’t a good idea. Things were going so well, why did she have to jeopardize that? Harry watched her for a solid minute, taking note of how she seemed to be sad about it. Her eyelids were heavy, her lips had rolled to a pout, and her hands were rubbing each other in her lap. She was trying to get out of the situation, but he was standing there staring at her.

“The way you told him to get off of you..” His voice almost frightened her, she didn’t think he’d speak back. “I just immediately thought about the night that guy was chasing you. I didn’t want you.. to be that scared again.”

Sincerity was rare when it came to him. He never let it be seen how he really felt. Nobody got any special treatment, he kept things to himself and didn't explain his actions if asked - but Ivy got that treatment. He’s found himself again telling her more than she should know. For just a split second, her eyes met his. She didn’t reply to him, didn’t even give him an expression. Her gaze fell to the pile of things next to the armchair.

“Is that.. the stuff people got for me?”

He was grateful she let the previous topic go. “Yeah, Emma told me to help you put it away but since I’m not allowed in your room.. I left it there.”

She hummed to herself, looking at the collection of gift bags. She knew that she received a few things from everyone and she was appreciative of that. There hadn’t even a chance for her to go through it yet, she had been so tired since she got home.

“Can you bring it to me? I wanna look at the stuff. Please.” She added the final word in a quick chirp.

Harry gathered the gift bags and brought them to the couch, sitting them next to her. He wasn’t sure what she was going to ask him to do next, if anything, so he chose to sit in the chair and watch her open the stuff. She started with the bag she recognized, the one from Emma. She got it at the hospital but didn’t go through it. She pulled out a stuffed teddy bear that was honey brown, attached to it was a pretty pink ribbon bow. She smiled sweetly as she read over the card Emma left for her. The second bag was labeled as being from Michelle. It was an assortment of snacks and candy that she was excited to dig into it. A card was also left, wishing her a quick recovery and a girls night soon. Alyssa put together a snack collection for her, too, with Zayn adding a short get well message to the card. She felt spoiled, but it was a relief to know they cared enough to send her things.

The last bag was a small one. The outside was covered in pink flowers, the bag itself being white. She reached inside and let out a shriek as she grabbed the small stuffed animal. It was a very pale shade of pink with big plastic, glittery blue eyes.

“Look at this one!” She was talking to herself, squeezing the pig with both hands. She thought it was the cutest looking thing she’d ever seen. It had an odd look to it that made it even more adorable.

She checked the bag, but there was no card or anything. There was nothing written on the outside of the bag either. “I wonder who got this. There’s no name on it. He’s adorable.”

Harry watched her as she rubbed her thumbs over the soft material of the plush, her eyes wide with joy and amazement. She had never seen something so cute before.

“Do you know who got this?” She glanced at him quickly.

“No, Niall brought it all in together.”

Ivy sighed, wishing she knew who the gift giver was. She wanted to thank them for blessing her with the pig. She decided to keep the teddy bear and the pig on the couch with her, politely asking Harry to put the candy and snack bags on the kitchen counter. He complied with her request and just smiled to himself as she mumbled about how much she liked the pig.

Later that night, Ivy was able to stand up on her own in the shower and take care of her basic need. Harry stood in the hallway just in case something happened to her. Once she was out, he went back to the kitchen so she could walk across the hall in the towel. She hated the feeling of drying off completely and getting dressed in the bathroom, the steam from the shower lurking in the air making her uncomfortable. So she carefully walked with her body wrapped up in a towel to her room.

Harry decided he’d work on dinner while she was doing her routine. She wanted something soft and easy on her stomach, so she requested macaroni and cheese. Harry found that somewhat amusing, that was all she wanted. But nevertheless, he agreed to making it for her.

There were no more deep conversations like the one they had earlier. She remained quiet and he kept to himself. She ate the food he made for her and watched the television until she was tired. Harry guided her down the hall and made sure she was in her bed before he went to get comfortable in his own makeshift bed. Ivy didn’t stay awake much longer, she was exhausted and ready to sleep.

When morning came, Ivy was way more confident in her walking. She realized that her legs felt much better and the pain from her sewn skin had gone down drastically. Everything was falling back in place, a sense of normality was slowly returning. She found Harry sitting at the kitchen table like he had spent most of the previous day doing. He closed his journal when he saw her come in.

“Sleep alright?” He asked, quickly noticing how swift her movements were . “You’re walking better, yeah?”

She nodded. “Slept good and yeah.. I feel so much better.”

“Well, that’s good. Niall called me earlier and said he’d let me know when they were heading back, should be around lunch.”

She licked her lips and let her eyes stroll over to the stove. “Okay. I’m kinda hungry.”

“What do you want?” He stood up, ready to do whatever she asked of him.

“I can try to do it.”

“You might as well use me while I’m here.” He chuckled very lightly. “Take advantage of my services.”

She thought about for a minute. He’s been washing the dishes he’s used for cooking. He’s cleaned up the kitchen, handled the garbage, done the little tasks she was so used to doing on her own. It was nice to have a break.

“You’re right.” She shrugged. “I just want some eggs.”

Their Sunday morning was much quieter than the Saturday had been. Like Niall estimated, it was a bit past lunch time when they arrived home. Emma practically ran inside to make sure Ivy was still alive and her and Harry hadn’t killed each other. She was relieved to see her on the couch, appearing much better off than when she left her. Emma demanded a full list of every moment from Harry. She had to ensure that he took well enough care of her. She was pleased to hear how everything went and how Harry made her walk around to gain her strength back.

Niall spoke to Ivy quietly on the couch, making sure that he got her side of the story. He was ready to pounce on Harry if he heard any negative comment that was made or any instance of attitude given. He was delighted to hear that Harry had behaved.

Not long after they arrived, Harry made his departure and Niall wasn’t far behind him. Emma made sure Ivy was comfortable before going to her room to unpack her bag. The crazy, unplanned weekend was finally over and everyone could get back to their normal lives. Before she forgot, though, she sent him a quick message that Sunday night.

Ivy: hey, just wanted to say thank you for staying with me. I really appreciate it.

Harry: you don’t have to thank me.

Ivy: but I’ll thank you anyway :)

She went to sleep shortly after that and when she woke up the next morning, she was surprised to see a message from him. He had sent it probably ten or so minutes after her last one, but by then she was passed out. Her heart skipped a beat as she read over the words. She was so stunned that she couldn’t come up with a response. How could something so simple suddenly mean the world to her?

Harry: you’re welcome. by the way.. I got you the pig. glad you like it.

[a/n: I’ve been waiting weeks for this update!! I hope you enjoy it.. the forced proximity is obviously very prominent in this part. things are shifting hehe see you soon!]

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[hoonieyun]

can we catch a break??? fuck!

pairing: sim jaeyun x reader x park sunghoon

warnings: mentions of death, murder, blood, profanity, murder chase scene, stalking, like overall slasher movie vibes, 18+

pls ignore timestamps and possible typos lol part of this chapter is written pls read the written portions to understand the full story

wc: 1067

your leg bounced impatiently as you waited for sunghoon to arrive. his text about wanting to talk had you a bit anxious because it could’ve been about anything but your mind automatically went to the worst things possible. 

the feeling you had was one similar to when you were mustering up the courage to break up with him, which now with all of the things that have happened since then, feels like an eternity ago. you were very grateful to have sunghoon by your side throughout all of this, granted he was your ex, it’s comforting to know someone like sunghoon is there to console you. even protect you. 

that’s how he was as a boyfriend, and still is, very protective and caring over you. that’s what you had loved about him, his desire to be the one to shield you from the dangers of the world, make you feel safe when you’re with him, and be the one you can lean on. 

your break up wasn’t anything dramatic, it was a fight of minimal words and pent up emotions that overflowed into each other. you had noticed a shift in sunghoon’s behavior but it was most evident the night of the party, the same night wonyoung had been murdered. he was distant and cold, he rarely spoke to you that night but his hands clung onto your body like you would slip away at any second. you should’ve realized it sooner, the way he’d glare at jake whenever he’d enter the room, the silent way he’d scoff when jake would say something to you, how sunghoon never wanted to be around him. 

sunghoon did not like jake. 

and maybe jake didn’t like him either. 

sunghoon didn’t tell you why he was distant that night but it irked you even more when he would try to avoid having the conversation with you. like any normal couple, you just wanted to be able to talk it out and work through it like adults; but sunghoon didn’t want that. you had grown tired of his dimissive attitude to things, afraid of confrontation and inability to voice his worries, so you told him that you wouldn’t either. 

if he didn’t want to address the issue, then you wouldn’t give him anything to address at all. 

so you broke up with him, drank heavily for the next few hours and didn’t see him again that night. that was when karina and daniella decided that you had enough to drink and the three of you went home, eventually finding wonyoung’s body in your living room. 

a text from your phone snaps you out of the memories of that night as you lift your phone up to your face to see who it’s from. 

from: girl get up!! (sunghoon) 

i’m here

you gave him a thumbs up before making your way out to him, laughing to yourself and setting a mental note that you should probably change his name. 

when you walked outside, sunghoon was standing there, leaning on his car as he waited for you. “there you are” he says as he opens the door for you. you mutter a small thank you and he slightly nods his head in response. you watch sunghoon slightly jog to his side of the car and strap himself in. “so, what did you want to talk about?” you ask, still anxious at what this conversation could turn into. 

the atmosphere in his car was different, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. 

“right.. uhm.” he starts. 

“i know a lot has been happening these days and you’re going through a lot, and i’ll do anything to be there for you. i guess i just want to say that i want to start over and maybe try again? this probably isn’t the best time but i haven’t stopped loving you even until now, you’re always on my mind and i’d do anything for you. 

i just can’t stand not having you by my side and with everything going on, i don’t want to regret anything in this life and if i die knowing that i never properly fixed things between us then that’d be a life i regret living.. 

so, can we start over and try again?” sunghoon says the last part softly. his voice instantly soothing your worries as he continued to speak as you were relieved to know it wasn’t anything worth being nervous over. you were quite surprised that sunghoon was not only bringing this up but talking about how he felt. you knew that it was always hard for him to do that so you were proud of you. your heart swelled with love as you looked into his eyes, “i never stopped loving you either..” you responded and a smile spread onto sunghoon’s lips, the one where his eyes and nose would crinkle and his canines were on display. 

your favorite smile. 

you mimed his smile and just as sunghoon is about to pull you in for a kiss, his phone starts to ring. 

“way to kill the mood heeseung.” he says before answering. “whats up? i’m on my way back.” he says into the phone, his face instantly contorting into something of worry and despair as he listens to heeseung on the other end of the phone. 

“fuck, ok. we’ll be right there.” sunghoon ends the phone and is putting his car into gear as he speeds off. “what’s happening? is everything ok?” you ask, worry settling into your stomach as you look at sunghoon’s face. his jaw was clenched and as your eyes focused onto his, you could see he was fighting off tears. 

“the fucker attacked heeseung and jay after i left, heeseung said jay is hurt pretty badly.” sunghoon explained, causing your breathing to become eradic and heavy. it’s barely been a whole day since karina had been killed and the killer was already after another one of them. 

your mind was beginning to spiral and your vision was starting to blur but when sunghoon places his hand over yours and puts it into his, everything starts to come back to normal. like his touch alone was enough to provide solace. “i’m sorry, hoon. jay’s going to be fine, ok?” you said and all he does is give you a small smile. a sliver of hope in his eyes that what you were saying is true.

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detective's notes: park jongseong, aka jay, was attacked in his home alongside roommate, lee heeseung. both victims are alive with jay receiving the worst end of the attack. detective lee taeyong and i have presented as ourselves the main detectives on this case to the main circle. we've originally hid out identities to avoid being sought out but with the bodies piling up and attacks becoming more frequent, we thought it would be best to let them know that we're the detectives behind this case. the decelis killer is still at large and the case is still on going. signing off, detective bae irene.

ᡣ•.•𐭩♡ @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @17ericas @manaah02 @heeseung64 @zorange13 @firstclassjaylee @leipforggy

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copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Thousand Yard Stare Chapter 4

Summary: Bucky Barnes has served his country well, and at a great personal cost.  After being rescued as a prisoner of war, he is struggling as he gets back into civilian life.  His newfound PTSD is severe.  His friends and family try to help, but he needs a lot more than they can give.  His mother signs him up for a Veteran recovery home, where he meets people struggling just like him, and the home director who has her own dark past to deal with.  He might just find love along the way as he searches for peace.

Warnings: mentions of physical assault, violence, being taken prisoner; sexual assault/r@pe; PTSD/anxiety/depression/panic attacks, flashbacks, nightmares; suicide/minor character death; eventual smut

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Y/N had already left before anyone had woken up the next morning.  Bucky found it odd, seeing as how she always greeted everyone and had breakfast ready, but this time they were left on their own to handle breakfast.  He felt like the house was colder than usual without her there.  He decided to text her:

Hope you have a fun day with your family.  See you later tonight.  Be safe.

She replied shortly after:

Thanks.  See you later.

He thought her response seemed clipped, but decided not to press her on it.  As he read the text Scott looked over.

“Why did you text her?” Scott asked, looking anxious.

“What?” Bucky asked.

“Ugh, I should have told you,” Scott groaned.  Everyone else at the table sighed as they ate breakfast.  

“What?” Bucky asked, more exasperated.  “What’s going on?”

“What did she tell you she was doing today?” Scott asked warily.

“Well, yesterday none of her family showed up and I asked her about it, and she said she’d see them today,” Bucky said, feeling overwhelmed with everyone’s attention on him.

Scott rubbed his face and Wanda hummed.  “She’s seeing them at the cemetery,” she said quietly.  Bucky looked at her confused.  Her head tilted and she sighed again.  “Every year, the day after Thanksgiving, Y/N goes to the cemetery and spends the day alone.  She has no family.  They’re all dead.  Her mom was her last living relative and she died just as Y/N was rescued from Baghdad.”

Bucky’s mouth dropped open and his eyes widened as he took in this new information.  He felt like throwing up.  He felt so stupid.  Why didn’t she say anything, or correct him when he asked about her family?

“She doesn’t like to talk about it,” Scott piped up, seeing the question in Bucky’s eyes.  “This home, and anyone she helps in it, is her family.  That’s why it’s her whole life.  We are her soul focus,” he said sadly.  “She’ll most likely have a nightmare tonight, or this weekend.  A loud one,” he added.  “She always does after today.  We should probably figure out who’s going to help her this time.”

“Help her?”  Bucky asked.

“Like she helps you with your nightmares,” Pietro spoke up.  

“I can do it,” Bruce volunteered quietly.  

“You did it last time Bruce, and she nearly knocked you out, don’t stress yourself,” Wanda interjected.  “I can do it.”

After a few back and forth comments Bucky spoke loudly.  “I’ll do it,” he volunteered.  They all looked at him.  “I’m closest to her room, I’ll hear her first.  And she’ll be with me in the comfy room later tonight anyway.  I’ll do it.”

Wanda’s eyes narrowed at him.  “It takes her a while to snap out of it,” she warned.  “She’ll fight you.  Especially because you’re a man holding her down.  She won’t recognize you at first.”

“I know,” Bucky said, remembering the few times she had helped him and he wasn’t fully coherent.  “But I can do it.  I’ve got her.”

Everyone nodded, the breakfast now tainted with a somber mood.

***

A few hours later as Bucky was finishing up helping Scott rake the leaves outside he went inside to shower.  As he rummaged through his jacket pocket for his phone he pulled it out and saw he had a voicemail from Y/N left an hour ago.  He quickly opened it as he sat on his bed and hit play.

“--but everything’s going good, Mama.  We just got a new guy at the home a few months ago.”

It took Bucky a moment to realize that she wasn’t speaking to him.  She had accidentally called him and left him a message, probably after answering his text earlier.

“His name is Bucky.  He’s a real sweetheart.”  She paused.  “He’s gone through the worst thing imaginable, like me.  But he’s doing really well.  Soon enough I feel like he’ll be able to go home, and he won’t need me anymore.”  She sniffled.  “The problem is…I feel like I’m falling in love with him.”

Bucky gaped at his phone, nearly dropping it as she spoke.

“And I shouldn’t be.  I know it’s not appropriate.  He’s there for help, not for me to be lusting after him.  That’s the last thing he needs.”  She paused again.  “You’d like him, Mama.  Funny, kind, headstrong, kinda quiet, he’s got a great laugh when he actually fully laughs.  And easy on the eyes, as you’d say,” she snickered.  “I don’t know.  Maybe someday, after he’s left or something.  It’s nice to just get it off my chest though.”  She started crying, her sniffles getting louder and a choked whimper coming out.  “I miss you so much Ma–”

The voicemail ended.  Bucky sat silently, his brain not fully processing what he just heard.  She liked him back.  Was “falling in love” with him.  The looks he’d seen and the more personal, tender touches weren’t his mind tricking him.  He felt elated and also uneasy.  Requited love was thrumming through his mind, and yet he’d found out this information unintentionally.  She hadn’t meant for him to find out.  Would she have ever said anything?  Would she have ever told him, even after he left the home when he was mostly recovered?  He felt like the answer would be no.  

Bucky was in a funk for the rest of the day, unsure of what to do or how to go about it.  Should he talk to her?  Or just ignore it and let her come to him when she was ready?  What if she never did out of some sense of it being inappropriate or unethical?  Later that night he was still stewing over it as he sat in the comfy building, holding his phone and listening to her voicemail over and over as he waited for her to come in for their session.

He quickly shut his phone off when he heard footsteps coming from outside.  Y/N walked in looking tired as she shut the door behind her and turned to see him on the couch.  “Oh, hey Buck, you’re here already,” she said quietly, giving him a small smile.

“Yep,” Bucky said just as quietly.  

“Well, shall we?” she asked, gesturing to the walled off room.  Bucky nodded and followed her into the room.  She closed the door and sat herself on the couch as he sat on the bed across from her.  “So last week I feel like we made some good progress in trigger points on the body.  Is there anywhere else that you feel like is holding tension in your body anytime we have done these sessions?” she asked as she rummaged through her things and pulled out a notebook.

“I do, but um,” Bucky hesitated.  He wasn’t sure what to say as his hands wrung in front of him.  “It’s in a place that’s not exactly, uh…” he paused, watching her.

“I can’t help you with anything below the belt, Buck,” Y/N laughed as she opened her notebook.  “Though I can give you some resources for sex therapists that could help you with that.”

“No, I mean yes, but no,” Bucky blushed.  “It’s um…it’s my head?”

“You’re head?” Y/N looked confused.  

He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair.  He decided to just address it now.  Maybe if he got it out in the open now they could work through it, for better or worse.  “I found something out today I wasn’t supposed to.”

“Do you want to tell me?” Y/N asked curiously.

Bucky gulped.  “Well, first of all, you lied to me last night.”  Y/N’s eyes minutely widened, her body freezing.  “You said you were seeing your family today.  You forgot to mention that they’re all gone,” Bucky said, trying to be gentle rather than accusatory.  Y/N stared at him, an unreadable expression on her face.  “Scott told me,” he said.

Y/N closed her eyes as she sighed heavily.  “I’m sorry.  I should have told you, I just didn’t want to put a damper on your day with your family,” she said.  

“You wouldn’t have,” Bucky said, leaning forward.  “As much as you’re helping me, I’d like to think that we’re at least friends at this point, Y/N.  You can tell me things, too,” he offered. 

Y/N opened her eyes and looked at him, her eyes now shining with unshed tears.  “Thank you,” she whispered.  

Bucky held a hand out to her and she reached forward taking it with one of hers.   “C’mere,” he said, pulling her hand toward him.  Y/N laughed a little then stood from the couch and walked up to him.  He moved back on the bed to lay down and pulled her next to him.  She was usually the one to hold him against her when they had cuddle sessions, but this time he was the one holding her, tucking her head into his chest.  

“I’m supposed to be cuddling you, sir,” Y/N laughed again, wiping her eyes.

“This is my cuddle session to do with as I please, ma’am,” Bucky scoffed at her, running his fingers through a part of her hair.  

Y/N giggled and nuzzled into his chest, her hands fisting into his sweater.  They lay together for a while, neither of them wanting to interrupt the quiet.  Bucky wanted to bring up the voicemail, but decided it would have to wait for another day.  She just needed comfort, a friend, and he was more than willing to be that for her.  The rest could wait.

***

Bucky awoke to the sound of whimpering, his chest being hit by something.  He moved away from the offending thing hitting him and tried to adjust his eyes to the darkened room.  He looked down to see Y/N squirming on the bed next to him.  They had fallen asleep in the cuddle room.  As he started to try to sit up Y/N stiffened.  Bucky watched her body go rigid, her hands grasping the blankets beneath her.  Her head wrenched back and she suddenly screamed.

The scream was unearthly and Bucky backed up again.  His eyes were comically wide as she twitched, the scream dying in her throat before she took another deep breath and screamed again.  He jumped into action, desperately wanting that awful noise to stop.

“Y/N!  Hey, wake up,” he said loudly, sitting up on his knees and hovering over her.  His hands gently shook her shoulders but she just tried twisting away from him.  “Y/N!” he yelled this time, more firmly shaking her.  Another scream reverberated through the room and he cringed.  Tears were streaming down her face and she cried loudly.

“NO!” she yelled.  

Bucky started tapping her cheek.  “It’s not happening to you now, sweetheart, come on!  It’s just a bad memory.  Come back!” he yelled, trying to speak into her ear more.  He gave her cheek one harder slap and her eyes flew open.  “Y/N?” he asked tentatively.

Y/N’s eyes turned to him in fear and she pushed against him.  She was surprisingly strong and sent him flying into the wall next to the bed.  “No!” she yelled again, scrambling away from him.

“Y/N, it’s me!” Bucky said, quickly collecting himself.  He moved toward her on the bed.  In her panic she wasn’t able to focus on getting her limbs to do what she wanted so she fell off the bed to the floor and started crawling away from him toward the corner of the room.  Bucky jumped off the bed and tried to help her up but she wrenched her body away.  “Y/N, come on…ugh!” Bucky yelped as she kicked his leg out from underneath him.  He fell on top of her, which made her scream harder.  He used the position to keep her from hitting him as he turned her to face him.  He gripped her hands with one hand and held them on her chest while the other kept himself upright.  Y/N was thrashing against him, trying to get away.  “Y/N!  LOOK AT ME!” he bellowed.

Y/N finally stopped and stared up at him, breathing heavily.  Her eyes flickered across his face, recognition slowly showing on her face.  “Come back to me, sweetheart,” Bucky breathed, staring into her eyes.  “It’s just me, Bucky, okay?  You were having a nightmare,” he slowly released her hands.  “It’s just a bad memory.  That’s what you always tell me, right?  It’s not happening to you now.  You’re here, at home.  You’re safe,” he stroked her cheek with his fingers.  She blinked rapidly at his touch and released a sharp breath.  

“Bucky,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Bucky smiled.  “Come on, let’s get you off the floor.”  He slowly pulled himself off of her and pulled her up by her arms.  Y/N let him guide her and then stood in front of him like she was zoned out, her eyes looking around as she was still grounding herself.  Bucky leaned down to her eye level and cupped her face, making her look at him.  “Hey,” he said lowly.  Her eyes found him again.  “Hey you,” he smiled.  “It’s just you and me, right here, right now.  I’ve got you,” he said, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.  Y/N sagged in his hold, her hands reaching up and grasping his wrists.  “I’ve got you,” he repeated, leaning his forehead against hers.

Next thing he knew she was kissing him.  He froze, his mind short circuiting for a split second, then he closed his eyes and kissed her back.  At first it was soft, neither of them moving.  Bucky pulled away and looked for any hesitation in her face, but only saw a deep desire looking back at him.  He dove back in and kissed her hard, pulling a moan from her.  Y/N’s arms moved to wrap around his neck, kissing him passionately, running her fingers through his hair just how he liked during their cuddle sessions.  

Bucky moved his hands from her face down to her lower back, wrapping his arms around and holding her to him.  Y/N’s nails scratched his scalp, making him shiver against her.  He started moving them back towards the bed, acting on instinct that he thought long lost as he maneuvered her onto the bed until he was hovering over her.  Y/N’s mouth opened and her tongue licked along his lower lip, and he happily reciprocated by tasting her back.  She moaned again, her hands now gripping his shoulders for support.

Bucky’s hands were slowly running down her sides to her hips, his right hand kneading her left thigh as he brought it up around his hip.  His other hand was tickling along her stomach then his fingers went under the hem of her shirt, skimming along her skin.  A small part of his brain was yelling at him to think this through, that she hadn’t confessed her feelings to him yet, that she had just woken up from a nightmare that was a huge emotional toll, what this would mean for them later, but it all felt too good.  Her perfect hands on his face, in his hair, her plushy skin under his fingers, the way her tongue felt on him, the sweet noises she made.  As her nails scratched down his chest he moaned into her mouth.

Y/N stilled, her fingers freezing and then pushing against his chest.  He pulled away panting as he looked at her questioningly.  Y/N looked at him in shock, looking down between them and then gasping.  She pushed him away, making him flop onto the bed next to her and quickly stood up, gathering her things.

“I’m sorry Bucky,” she said, adjusting her clothes.

“What?  Hold on,” Bucky stood, reaching for her arm which she quickly dodged.  “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N repeated, moving towards the door.  “That was wrong.  I apologize.”

“Y/N wait,” Bucky said, blocking her way to the door.  “Talk to me, hey,” he reached out and held her arms.  

“We can’t do this, Buck,” Y/N said, shutting her eyes tight.  

“Why not?” Bucky asked, squeezing her arms.

“I’m supposed to be helping you, not dating you,” Y/N answered, keeping her head turned toward the floor.  “Thank you for helping me get out of that nightmare.  I’m sorry for my emotional response.”

“I kissed you, too,” Bucky said, cupping her face again and bringing her face up.  “Look at me, sweetheart.”

Y/N’s eyes flew open at the pet name but she shook her head.  “Don’t call me that,” she said, trying to move away.

“Y/N please!” Bucky raised his voice.  “I wanted that, too.  I kissed you back.  I want you.  I got a voicemail from you earlier today.”  Y/N’s brow furrowed in confusion.  “It was you talking to what I’m assuming was your mom’s grave,” he continued.  Her eyes widened.  “You said you were falling in love with me,” Bucky said.  “And I’ve been falling for you for a while now.”

Y/N shook her head again.  “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does,” Bucky said imploringly.  “How could you say that?”

“I can’t have you,” Y/N sniffed, some tears starting to form in her eyes again.  “Not now.  Not like this, when you’re in my care–”

“You’re not my therapist,” Bucky cut in.  “Having a relationship with you is not unethical or a breach of trust or conduct.  I want this,” he leaned in and kissed her forehead.  “I want you,” he said, kissing down her face, making her sigh.  “All I want is you,” he breathed, his lips grazing her lips.

Y/N whimpered as he gave her lips a short kiss, but she quickly took another step back.  “Bucky, please understand–”

“I’ll wait,” Bucky interrupted.  Y/N froze.  “I can wait until my time here is done.  Once you and Dr. Strange feel like I’m healed well enough to leave, then we can do this,” he gestured between the two of them.  “Please don’t push me away.”

Y/N huffed a sharp breath, her eyes flickering between his.  She was contemplating, and he didn’t dare let go of her as she thought it through.

“What if your recovery takes a long time?” she asked.  “You can’t rush yourself through recovery for the sake of a possible relationship afterwards.  You have to do this right–”

“I will,” Bucky promised.  

“Can you honestly wait that long?” Y/N asked.  “And when it is done how will you…your family lives a few hours away, your whole life is there.  How would this even work?”

“We can figure all that out when the time comes,” Bucky said, his hands slipping down to her shoulders.  

She stared at him for another minute.  “I don’t…I don’t know,” she shook her head, looking down.

“Think about it,” Bucky said quietly, massaging her shoulders.  “Either way, I’ll wait for you.”  He lifted her chin with his fingers and leaned in, kissing her deeply one last time.  “Just remember, you’re all I want sweetheart.  And I’ve got you.  No matter what you choose.”  He gave her a sad smile, pulled his hands away then walked out of the room and back towards the house.  He didn’t know what would happen from here, but hoped for the best.

@wintrsoldrluvr @isitbiorisitlesbian @starfly-nicole @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger @idontknowhowtonormal

[secondarysefikura]

Sephiroth kidnaps Cloud marries him in a secret ceremony(only Jenova is there to witness their union) before taking Cloud somewhere very hidden for them to live, where Cloud’s friends can’t find them. Sephiroth wants Cloud to be a very devoted wife, but of course Cloud isn’t going to immediately listen and behave as soon as Sephiroth brings him home. So he makes sure to correct any and all times that Cloud misbehaves threw “punishments”, really bad punishments. Cloud tries or even succeeds in trying to make a run for it and leave Sephiroth? Well then once Sephiroth catches him and drags him back home kicking and screaming he’ll break his legs(but if he’s feeling generous he’ll only break one). The two of them are preparing a nice dinner together and Cloud all of then sudden grabs one of the knives and tries to stab Sephiroth? Well the that’s either a broken wrist or a broken arm. Sephiroth wants them to take a bath together or go lay down in their bed but Cloud refuses? Well then when Sephiroth does get Cloud to sit in the tub or lay in the bed he’ll do so with a few broken ribs. Cloud screams at him and calls him such horrible names like monster? Well then, he’ll show Cloud how much of a monster he can be. Due to their connection which allows Sephiroth to read Cloud’s mind, if Sephiroth doesn’t like what Cloud is thinking of, ie Cloud’s friends(especially Tifa and Aerith) and ideas of escaping then he will be punishment severely for it. It gets to the point where Cloud is terrified to even think of his friends, or even so much as glanced out a window. Sephiroth does of course show a more softer side to his poor wife, especially when it gets to the point where Cloud is terrified to do basically anything out of fear that he will be punished for even the smallest mistake. Sephiroth is able to ease Cloud’s fears and help get him settled into his new role as Sephiroth’s wife. Eventually when Sephiroth leaves their home for hours so he can finally get his hands on the black materia, Cloud is always waiting by the front door to give him a kiss on the cheek before he leaves, like the good wife he is.

Sorry this took so long! I wanted to write a little ficlet for you!

Cloud keeps his wedding vows short and sweet: 

“I will never be your perfect little wife,” he growls. 

Sephiroth merely laughs. 

“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.” 

— — —

When Cloud makes a break for it two days later, Sephiroth drags him back home by the hair. 

“That’s a broken leg.” Sephiroth says calmly while Cloud tries to escape his hold. 

He only planned to break one, but Cloud swears at him so he decides to break the other to make the lesson stick. 

Not that Sephiroth truly expects the lesson to stick (things are never that easy with Cloud, after all). Case and point a day after Cloud regains the ability to walk and he lunges for the knife Sephiroth is using to prepare carrots for dinner. Before Cloud can even touch the knife’s handle, however, Sephiroth wraps his hand around Cloud’s wrist and bends until Cloud cries out. 

“I’ll break the other one too, if you try that again.”

Cloud doesn’t try again, instead retreating to their bedroom to sulk with his broken wrist clutched tight to his chest. 

Much to Sephiroht’s surprise, Cloud listens well at dinner. He even refrains from biting when Sephiroth kisses him. It’s a nice change of pace, although it doesn’t last long. Despite Cloud’s earlier obedience, bathtime is still a hellish experience filled with kicking and screaming. 

By the time Cloud is ready to be taken in the bath he has more broken ribs than non-broken ribs and he’s whimpering pathetically everytime his body is jostled. 

When Sephiroth fucks him that night, Cloud can’t stop crying.

— — —

Eventually Cloud starts to settle into his role, even if he occasionally has little tantrums where he calls Sephiroth rude names and needs another punishment for acting out. There are no more mad breaks for freedom or attempted stabbings, just the occasional rude word or bitter cuss.  

Although just because Cloud isn’t actively trying to run away doesn’t mean he isn’t thinking about it. And Sephiroth punishes Cloud for those treacherous thoughts just as harshly as he would if Cloud had acted upon his desires. 

“Why are you thinking about her?” Sephiroth murmurs as tries to decide where to break Cloud’s leg this time. 

Cloud shakes as if he doesn’t deserve the punishment he’s about to receive. 

“Not the legs, please.” 

Sephiroth thinks it's really cute how Cloud hates having his legs broken. Perhaps that's why it’s his favourite part to break. 

— — —

The turning point comes when Cloud stops doing anything. Then, whenever Sephiroth checks Cloud’s thoughts, he notices they are consumed with frantic panic. 

He’s looking at me. Did I do something? What did I do? Do I apologise? Did I think of her? Should I beg? No, I didn’t mean to look out the window. Does he know it was an accident? Do I tell him I made a mistake? I want to be good. Why can’t I be good? I can’t…why am I bad?

It breaks Sephiroth’s heart to see Cloud suffer now that he is being good, so he goes about rebuilding Cloud rather than breaking him down. He peppers Cloud with kisses, ensuring not a single inch of skin doesn’t feel the soft curve of his lips. He mutters sweet nothings into Cloud’s ear and tells him how much he loves him. He washes Cloud’s hair when they bathe together and feeds him sweets from his hand.

With time, fear is replaced with adoration.

— — —

“Huh? You’re leaving?”

“Just for a little.” Sephiroth promises, “you’ll barely even notice I’m gone.” 

“As if I won’t notice,” Cloud smiles mischievously, “things will be too peaceful without you always getting in the way while I’m tidying up.”

When he gets home, Cloud comes to greet him with a kiss on the cheek before grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the kitchen. 

“Come on, I tried my hand at some baking. Let me know what you think!” 

The slice of cake set down in front of him looks a little dry, but not too bad for a first attempt at baking. 

The taste, however….

“Cloud, this is horrible.” 

“Is it?” Cloud asks, stealing Sephiroth’s fork so he can try some himself. As soon as the cake touches his lips his face scrunches up in displeasure, “Ugh, yeah. I think I remembered the recipe wrong. I could have sworn mom used one of the big spoons of salt, but maybe it was the tiny one?” 

“I’ll bring you back a cookbook.”

Cloud grins and kisses him again. 

— — —

Months later, Cloud kisses him on the lips when he gets home.

“You got home at the perfect time. I just put the muffins on the cooling rack.” 

“How lovely, what kind?”

“I made those pumpkin ones you really liked last time.” 

Sephiroth smiles; he truly has the perfect wife.

[oopsiedaisydeer]

𝘢 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘯𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴

ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ… 20ᴛʜᴄᴇɴᴛᴜʀʏɢɪʀʟ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴘʟᴀʏꜱ ᴄᴜᴘɪᴅ, ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴀ ᴍʏꜱᴛᴇʀʏ ᴇɴᴠᴇʟᴏᴘᴇ

Echo was no stranger to awkward situations, but this? This was next-level.

It had started with a phone call just a few days ago, her phone buzzing while she was half-distracted with her sketchbook.

“Echo! I need a favor.” Iris’s voice was light, but there was an edge of excitement in it.

“Uh, sure. What’s up?”

“Okay, so I’ve made a valentine for Matt. I need you to pick it up from the post office tomorrow and deliver it to him. But like… without him knowing it’s from me.”

Echo’s heart skipped a beat. “Wait, what? You want me to deliver a valentine for you? To Matt?”

Iris laughed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, just slip it into his locker. I can’t risk him finding out it’s me. I know you can do it, please? Pretty please?”

Echo sighed, already feeling the pressure. She wasn’t sure she was the perfect person for the job, but it wasn’t like she could say no to Iris.

“Fine, fine. But you owe me one,” Echo grumbled, half-amused by Iris’s sudden surge of enthusiasm.

“Deal! Thank you, you’re a lifesaver!” Iris gushed before hanging up.

Standing outside Matt’s locker on the day before Valentine’s Day, she tried to act casual… a bundle of nerves, holding the envelope. She glanced around one more time, making sure no one was looking.

It wasn’t exactly her job to play Cupid, but here she was. Iris had asked her to deliver the valentine, and Echo couldn’t say no.

She shoved her hands in her pockets, trying to steady the flutter in her chest. She wasn’t supposed to make a big deal out of this. It was just a valentine. She was just being a good friend.

With a deep breath, Echo slid the envelope through the small gap in Matt’s locker, her fingers trembling. It should’ve been a quick, simple task, but for some reason, the whole thing felt... off. Like something was waiting to go wrong. She stepped back, ready to escape the moment before anything else happened.

Just then, a voice broke through her thoughts.

“Well, well, well, Echo. What do we have here?”

Echo froze, every muscle in her body tensing as she turned to see Chris leaning against the lockers, arms crossed, a teasing grin on his face.

“Nice work,” he said, nodding toward Matt’s locker. “So, you like Matt? Or are you just playing matchmaker now?”

Echo rolled her eyes, trying to keep her cool. “It’s nothing. Just a valentine. Relax.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. You know, I’m really curious about this whole thing you got going on with Matt. You’ve been a little... more forward, lately though.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she quickly averted her eyes. “I don’t have a thing with Matt. I’m just... doing a favor for a friend. That’s all.”

Chris laughed lightly, his voice playful. “Sure, sure. You know, you’re terrible at keeping secrets, Echo.”

Echo bit her lip, trying to ignore the fluttering in her chest. “I’m not keeping a secret. Just... I owe something to someone. That’s it.” She wanted to get out of this conversation before she said something that gave her away.

Chris grinned. “Uh-huh. Well, I’m sure I’ll find out eventually. You can’t hide things from me for long.”

She groaned inwardly. Chris was impossible to shake off once he got curious.

“Anyway, I’ll leave you to your... mystery. Don’t get too caught up in it,” he added, winking at her.

Echo felt the heat rise in her cheeks again. She was terrible at this. “Right. Thanks for the... advice.”

She hurried away from him, relieved to be out of the conversation, and quickly left the school. As soon as she stepped outside, she let out a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves.

The valentine was now safely delivered. She had done her job. But for some reason, she still felt unsettled.

When Echo got home, she tossed her bag on her bed and sat down, exhausted from the awkwardness of the day. As she rummaged through her backpack, she found something unexpected… a small envelope tucked into the side pocket. No return address. Her heart skipped a beat. Was this... a valentine?

Echo pulled it out slowly, her fingers tracing the edges. She recognised the handwriting instantly, though she couldn’t place it exactly. It looked familiar but not quite right. Almost like someone was trying to cover their tracks. She opened the envelope carefully, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Inside, there was a doodle of a cat, a few lyrics from a rap song she vaguely recalled someone humming that week, and a message in the same scribbly handwriting.

We knew from the start that things fall apart and tend to shatter She like that shit don't matter, when I get home, get at her Through letter, phone, whatever, let's link, let's get together “Thought you might need a valentine too”

Echo blinked, staring at the card. It didn’t make sense. The handwriting and tone seemed like a guy she must know. But then again, she had no clue who the sender was. 

There was no name at the bottom of the card, just the cat doodle and a few random drawings that made her smile despite herself. The note was playful, simple, and full of clues that felt oddly personal.

Echo stared at the card, her thoughts a little scattered. It felt oddly intimate, like something meant just for her, yet still not quite hers. She smiled softly to herself, as she tucked it into her nightstand.

A valentine with no return address.

creds to @bernardsbendystraws for dividers <33

a/n: i love these guys :> taglist: @snoopychris @chrissweetheart @sturnsrecord @sturns-mermaid @slxt4chriss @blushsturns @stvrnzwrld @middlepartmatt comment to be added/removed from this au's taglist!

cya soon <3

[gyllenhaalstuff]

Hmmm…I can’t think of a plot sorry- buttt what about doing a Sam Hall ( The day after tomorrow) fanfic? He’s very underrated imo :D

Agreed, very underrated. I hope this is up your alley, sorry about the overall filth.

First Time

- Sam Hall ᯓᡣ𐭩

Summary: You’re ready to take the next step with your boyfriend Sam and one night you finally have the guts to bring it up.

Warnings: Overall very sweet, loss of virginity, both are very needy and awkward, established relationship, handjob, fingering, piv sex (protected this time who cheered).

Word count: 1881

Notes: Sam seems like such a sweetheart I had to write him as one.

All characters are 18+

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿ ˚₊

Your boyfriend Sam was a very sweet, thoughtful guy. You really liked him. You studied together, went to the movies, and played games on his Switch. This was all fun, but you wanted more.

Of course you had had some steamy makeout sessions. You’d replay those moments in your head over and over. His hand on the small of your back, his shaky breaths, the way he hardened beneath your hips.

You hoped this was as torturous for him too. Because at this point you’d have him anywhere, anytime. And you were prepared for it too. Two condoms sat in your wallet; you had researched how to give a good handjob and how to give a good blowjob and how much to shave and what underwear to wear.

You were spending the night at Sam’s house. A Mario Kart grand prix had ended in a wrestle match on his bed. Eventually you won, pinning his hands above his head. “Ha! I win again,” you laugh. “Oh, shut up,” Sam bickered back before you kissed him. Not in a hey-take-your-clothes-off-and-fuck-me-into-next-week way, just in a normal, sweet, and loving way. He kissed you back, and it didn’t take long until you were back in a usual makeout session, but you wanted to bring your wishes up.

His lips parted for you, and his hands rested lightly on your waist. You ground your hips down on him, and his breath caught in his throat. You broke the kiss and spoke, “Hey, Sam?” He looked up at you; he almost looked nervous. “Yeah, what’s up?” His hand stroked your arm that you held yourself up on, making the hairs stand up. “I want more,” you mumbled. The actual words seemed too big, too intimidating. “You want to kiss more?” Sam asked, still not completely sure where this was headed, though he definitely got some hopes up. 

You sat straight up, straddling him. “No, I want more of you,” you paused and tried to muster up the courage, “I want to… you know?” This was harder than you anticipated. Sam just smiled at you; his hopes had gotten confirmed. “You wanna have sex?” He tried his best to look unbothered, which he did a terrible job at. You smiled back and hid your face in your hands, nodded, and laid down on his chest.

Sam stroked your back and did his best to ignore his blood rushing to his groin. “We can do that,” he said softly, “but I can’t guarantee I’ll be any good at it.” You picked up your head, your cheeks flushed, and looked at his boyish grin. “Me neither.”

You leaned in and kissed him again, more passionately this time. Your hands fumbled and groped at each other, exploring and unsure. “Should we…?” Sam said hesitantly, tugging at the hem of your shirt. “Yeah, sure,” you nodded and removed your t-shirt, exposing your bralette that you definitely didn’t pick out just in case.

You were about to lean in again when Sam pushed you back up to get a better look. His mouth was agape and eyes wide. “You’re gorgeous,” he mumbled before daring to put one of his hands over the lace. Noticing his nervousness, you put your hand over his, squeezing it. “I’m not made of glass, you know,” you joked, trying to lighten the tension. You got a chuckle in return. Sam was too busy to speak. How could he focus on anything else but your tits?

Growing frustrated, you unclasped the bra hook and let the straps fall down. Sam removed the fabric with his hand and a shaky breath left him. “Jesus Christ.” He groped you more confidently and rolled your nipple between his fingers, making a small sound escape your lips, and he thought he was going to cum right then and there. “You’re so pretty,” he said, looking up at you for the first time in a bit. “You too,” you let him know.

You grabbed the hem of his shirt and raised an eyebrow at him, to which he nodded eagerly. You threw his navy blue t-shirt on the floor and laid your body against his. The feeling of your tits against his warm skin was unmatched (so far at least). When you pressed your lips against his again, he placed his hands, less carefully now, on your hips. He had never touched you like that before; it was more eager, harder. 

He pushed your hips down against him, and you could feel his cock through his clothes. The thought of him getting turned on because of you made your head spin. It also made you moan into his mouth, which earned you a buck of his hips.

You sat up and ran your hands down to the button of his pants. “I wanna see you. If you want to?” you said, not wanting to push. “Please.” He almost looked drunk; his face was flushed and his lips were swollen. You unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Sam raised his hips, helping you pull them off.

Your clit grew its own heartbeat seeing him so exposed. His white underwear almost looked transparent, and the outline of his cock was clear. You gave him a reassuring smile, meaning, Well, this isn't bad at all. 

Your fingers ran up his length before playing with the hem of his boxers. Before you could ask him if you could, he nodded at you to go ahead. You pulled them off and took in the view, which made Sam more nervous than ever. “Say something,” he said after a second and laughed nervously. “I honestly didn’t know what to expect, but you didn’t let me down,” you wrapped your unsure fist around him, “I’m pleased.” Sam breathed out a sigh of relief, which got interrupted by your hand twisting around him up and down. It wasn’t as experienced as his own, but it was yours.

“Spit on it. Makes it easier,” he suggested, not to make you feel embarrassed, just to help you out. You obliged and spit on his tip before smearing it around with your hand. Sam shuddered beneath you as your soft palm stroked him. Quiet moans spilled out when you squeezed his tip. You caught on, setting a moderate pace and heightening the pressure as you made your way up. 

Sam didn’t know what to do; the situation was overwhelming, and his heart was about to beat out of his chest. He sat up and grabbed your hand. “Wait a second,” he huffed, trying to catch his breath. “You alright?” Sam nodded, “I’m just trying to take it all in.” You got scared you crossed a line before he spoke again. “We should switch.” Your eyes widened a bit. “Only if you want.” Now this was unknown territory. None of the guides mentioned this. “I wouldn’t have asked otherwise,” he smiled and sat up beside you and patted the sheets for you to lie down.

Sam peeled off the rest of your clothes after getting a green light. He had done some research of his own. Of course he had; he just never told you about it. His curious fingers spread your folds and ran up your slit. Your thighs shuddered once he reached your clit. He prayed to God he was in the right spot and pressed it lightly to really confirm. When he heard a whine from above, he knew. He concentrated on making small, circular movements, wanting you to feel appreciated and taken care of.

You didn’t have the mind to ask where he learned this; in fact, your mind felt completely blank. Your breathing came in sharp inhales and whiny exhales. Sam’s fingers entering you didn’t exactly make you quiet down, but instead you hummed and moaned with each curl of his determined fingers. The way you hugged his digits made him want to jump your bones immediately, but this was too good to end just now.

He upped his speed slightly, angling his fingers up towards your pelvis to hit your spot with each thrust. His other hand made use of its thumb, placing it against your clit and massaging it. “I can’t—I’m close,” you stammered as your thighs clenched and shook. Sam looked up at you, with a stupidly proud smile on his face. “Go on, c’mon, honey.”

His words paired with his hands pushed you over the edge, and your walls clamped around his fingers. He watched in awe as you writhed there in his bed. He knew he’d never sleep in it again without thinking back on this, this moment playing like a broken record in his mind.

You caught your breath and reached over to your bag on the floor, bringing out your wallet. You pulled a condom out and held it out to Sam. “You came prepared,” he teased and grabbed it. You blushed and watched him open it with his teeth before rolling on the condom. You laid back on the pillows with your legs on either side of him. Sam settled between your thighs and teased you with his cock, letting it bump against your clit and circle around your opening.

“You ready?” Sam made sure before slowly pushing into you. His hands rested on either side of you, holding himself up. He hissed as you enveloped him, placing his forehead against yours, eyes closed shut. You breathed through your mouth, through the slight pain. You didn’t think of it at the time, but in hindsight, he was blessed in that region. He pulled out before pushing himself back in, kissing you as he did.

He kept his slow pace until you breathed out, “faster.” To which he sat back on his heels, grabbed your thighs, and thrust into you. You moaned in pleasure as he fucked you. Though lovemaking might be a more appropriate word since he kept his gaze on your face, noticing and adjusting after every wince and moan that escaped your lips.

Sam’s brown hair was a mess by now, tousled and almost covering his eyes. He pressed kisses to your knees, worried you felt uncomfortable. Though, you definitely didn’t; in fact, you were on cloud 9. His mind seemed to slip away as he neared his orgasm; he groaned with each thrust and tightened his grip on your thighs.

The sight you were met with when he came was unreal. His mouth hung open, his eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes were closed shut, and the sounds of his choked moans made your stomach swirl. Once his soul reentered his body, he smiled lovingly at you. He pulled out, took off the condom, tied it up, and threw it in the trash before leaning in close to you, brushing your hair behind your ears, and kissing you softly. 

Sam laid down beside you and hugged you. His soft lips met your forehead, and his arms squeezed around your torso. “Was it good for you too?” He asked. You smiled at the ‘too.’. He liked it. “It was,” you nuzzled into his neck, “really good.”

You had never slept as well as you did that night, in Sam’s arms, under his now dirty duvet. The whole room smelled like sex and him, and you couldn’t imagine any place you’d rather be.

[vividiana]

wip whenever 📝

thank you so much to @xxnashiraxx @deadly-diminuendo @hellethil and @khywren for tagging me over the past week or so 💕 I've been feeling very uninspired lately so I didn't have anything to share

but! yesterday in a flash of fever-induced genius I had an idea for a modern au involving Eve and Astarion that I'm very excited about. I don't want to spoil things but the very basic premise is that Eve is in a witness protection program and she had to uproot her life and assume a new identity (for... reasons... don't worry about that yet.) and Astarion is, well... running from his past, let's say.

here's a draft of the not-so-cute meet-cute:

The white-haired man doesn’t look up when she stands before him, seemingly lost in thought as he scribbles something fervently in a journal in sweeping, messy handwriting. Through the scent of stale beer and fried food, she singles out a hint of his cologne—citrusy, fresh, and far more pleasant than anything the men around here usually wear, if they even bother. “Hello, my name is Eve–” He startles at the sound of her voice. There is a trace of panic in his eyes as he looks up, one that he instantly tries to cover up by straightening in his seat and donning a forced smile. The moment their eyes meet, Eve gets the strangest feeling of déjà vu she’s ever experienced. There is something familiar in that shade of blue, in the way his hair curls behind his ears. It catches her off-guard, the rehearsed introduction dying in her throat mid-sentence.  “I’m sorry, do I know you from somewhere?” she asks instead.  The man instantly tenses up with a loud scoff.  “Of course you would know me from somewhere. What else did I expect?” He gestures animatedly as he speaks, Eve blinking in confusion as she listens to his rant. “You move halfway across the country to finally get a break for once and– Are you one of those true crime freaks? Do you want to ask me how I did it? Do you want to know all the gory details? Fucking hell…” He drops his fountain pen on the counter with a loud thud and slips his glasses off to massage his temples, eyes shut tight in frustration. A couple patrons turn their heads to look in their direction, Eve’s cheeks growing hotter at the sudden attention. And perhaps, after this hell of a shift, that was simply the last straw. “Do not raise your voice at me,” the words slip past her lips before Eve can think better of it. The man seems genuinely taken aback and he opens his eyes, brows furrowed when he asks: “Excuse me?” “You seem to think you’re someone important. Sorry to burst your bubble, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. And no matter who you are, you shouldn’t speak to people that way, but especially not to those who handle your food and drinks.” She didn’t mean it to sound like a threat, but she has no emotional energy left to dull the edge of her words.  Maybe getting fired wouldn’t be so bad. Then I’ll never have to come back here. For a moment he just looks at her wide-eyed, opening and closing his mouth a couple times. Eventually he clears his throat and puts his glasses back on, sounding genuinely embarrassed when he admits: “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just– It’s been a long day. But still, that’s no reason to– I’m sorry.” The anger pent-up in her body starts to dissipate at his tone. He sounds… tired. In a way she recognizes all too well. “It’s been a long day for me, too,” she says. “Maybe we can try again.”  She turns away and takes a couple steps along the bar, then returns with a polite smile on her face to say: “Hello, my name is Eve, I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Can I get you started with something to drink?” He chuckles softly and now that his face is more relaxed, Eve can’t help but think that he is quite handsome, in a manner that feels utterly out of place here. “That depends,” he says. “Are you going to spit in it or poison it?” “You’ve apologized, so neither. But you’re on thin ice.”

tagging: @verbenaa @funniestbitchinfaerun @obsessedwhyyes (word on the street is you have some Bloodweave cooking 👀) @roguishcat @olivedrop if you have anything you'd like to share ✨

[everwhovian]

I already wrote a little thing about In-ho meeting his wife (I called her Yuna), and now I just had to write something about Jun-ho being very, very excited that she's coming over for dinner!!

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ○△□ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

what remains. | Hwang brothers

Part 1 | next part | masterlist

Part 5.1: Jun-ho, Yuna, and the vegetables

The moment Jun-ho spotted Yuna through the window, he was gone.

One second, he was sitting on the floor, coloring, completely focused on his drawing... and the next, he was sprinting for the door with the force of a child on a mission.

“Hyung! Yuna’s here!” he shouted, as if In-ho didn’t already know.

Jun-ho yanked the door open before she could even knock.

“YUNA!” He launched himself at her, latching onto her waist like an overexcited koala.

Yuna let out a surprised huff, barely managing to stay upright, but she caught him easily, wrapping her arms around the seven-year-old with a soft chuckle. “Wow, okay, I wasn’t expecting a full tackle today.”

Jun-ho beamed at her. “You’re here!” he exclaimed as if that wasn’t obvious.

Yuna laughed, gently prying him off just enough to ruffle his hair. “I take it you missed me?”

Jun-ho nodded furiously, then immediately wrapped his arms around her again.

This time, at least, his feet stayed on the ground.

Behind them, In-ho finally appeared in the hallway, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with mild amusement.

“Seriously?” he muttered, raising an eyebrow at his little brother. “You’re gonna steal my girlfriend before she even walks inside?”

Jun-ho barely glanced at him.

“She’s not your girlfriend,” he declared with absolute confidence.

In-ho tilted his head. “Uh. Yes, she is?”

“No,” Jun-ho insisted, gripping Yuna’s hand like she might disappear. “She’s my friend.”

Yuna smirked, clearly enjoying this.

In-ho let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Oh, so that’s how it is, huh?”

Jun-ho nodded, fully committed.

Yuna, biting back a smile, patted Jun-ho’s head. “Well, I guess I belong to Jun-ho now.”

“See?” Jun-ho said, grinning up at In-ho like he had won something.

In-ho huffed, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. I invite you over, and this is how you repay me?”

Yuna giggled. “I’ll make sure to say hi to you at least once while I’m here.”

“Oh wow,” In-ho deadpanned. “I feel so special.”

Jun-ho laughed, holding onto Yuna’s hand as he tugged her inside. “Come on, I have to show you something!”

Yuna glanced back at In-ho with a small smile as if to say, I’ll be back. And just like that, she was gone. In-ho shook his head, chuckling to himself. He’d get his girlfriend back eventually. Probably.

For the rest of the evening, Jun-ho was glued to Yuna’s side. He even abandoned his usual seat at dinner, squeezing in beside her without hesitation. He talked non-stop, eagerly recounting everything he had done since her last visit, barely pausing to breathe.

And, most importantly, he kept a close watch on In-ho, ensuring his brother didn’t try to ‘steal her back.’

Until, of course, the vegetables hit his plate.

That was where Jun-ho drew the line. He eyed them with thinly veiled disdain, like they had personally offended him.

Jun-ho was already a master at avoiding vegetables. It was an art form, really: a carefully perfected skill. Pushing spinach around his plate until it looked like he had eaten some. Taking tiny, calculated bites when his mother was watching.

And – his personal favorite – slipping them onto In-ho’s plate when no one was paying attention.

Unfortunately for him, In-ho was always paying attention and caught on immediately.

“Jun-ho,” In-ho said, unimpressed, pointing at the untouched spinach.

Jun-ho didn’t look up. “I’m eating.”

“You’re eating rice.”

“I like rice.”

“You also need vegetables.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

His mother sighed, watching the exchange unfold as if it were a scene she had witnessed a hundred times before.

Yuna, however, simply hummed, reaching for the serving plate of vegetables.

“You know,” she said casually, “I heard that detectives eat a lot of spinach.”

Jun-ho paused mid-bite. His eyes flickered toward her. “What?”

“Mhm.” Yuna nodded seriously, placing a perfectly folded leaf onto his plate. “It’s like… their secret weapon. Makes them sharper. Faster. It’s practically part of the academy training.”

Jun-ho squinted at her suspiciously. “That doesn’t sound real.”

“You think I’d lie to you?” she asked, feigning offense.

Jun-ho glanced at In-ho, narrowing his eyes. “Hyung, is that true?”

In-ho, who had been about to take a sip of water, nearly choked. He set his glass down slowly, watching as Yuna lifted an eyebrow at him, all but daring him to contradict her.

Jun-ho turned his stare on him, waiting.

And, well… In-ho had lied about worse things to get Jun-ho to behave. He sighed. “Yeah, kid. It’s true.”

Jun-ho frowned, clearly weighing his options. Then, with great reluctance, he picked up a piece of spinach, shoved it into his mouth, and chewed aggressively.

His mother covered her mouth to hide her smile.

Yuna, meanwhile, looked completely pleased with herself. “See? You’re already looking smarter,” she teased.

Jun-ho swallowed, wiping his mouth dramatically. “I don’t feel smarter.”

“Well,” Yuna said, shrugging, “maybe you need another bite.”

Jun-ho glared at her, then at the vegetables. And then, to everyone’s surprise, he shrugged and picked up another piece.

In-ho blinked.

Jun-ho’s mother stifled a laugh.

Yuna hid her smirk behind her chopsticks.

Then, In-ho leaned back, watching as Jun-ho ate his vegetables like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Unbelievable.

Part 1 | next part | masterlist

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ○△□ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

So In-ho was 40 when his wife died and Jun-ho was 24. How long do you think In-ho and his wife were married before that? How long do you think they were together? Do you think maybe they met when Jun-ho was still a teen, do you think they maybe even met when Jun-ho was still a child? Do you think Jun-ho slept over at their place a lot? Do you think maybe he was a little bit like a child to them? Do you think young Jun-ho was really excited whenever his big brother's girlfriend came over for dinner because "she's always so nice to me"? How close do you think Jun-ho and In-ho's wife were?

[smilingfiend]

Aight the brainrot has reached compulsive doodle status. Here’s an eepy Charlie that was quickly drawn in an unhinged state of mind

[hardtofindneuro]

getting personal because i miss interacting with everyone & i don’t want to lose friends here because im super inactive & unresponsive right now.

for the last 12 days, i’ve been a 24/7 caregiver to my grandmother. we are, and have always been, extremely close. she’s on hospice and i’m heartbroken, but doing my best to spend time with her in her last few days. i’m taking off from work but still working online for my two jobs while at hospice, taking care of my grandma, and writing 1 chapter every night for my advent fic. this year has been hit after hit after hit, but writing & this fandom are my safe havens most days. so, i miss you guys & im trying my best to write this advent fic on time, so i swear im not trying to ignore dms or comments or anything. i always read them and love them and appreciate them, i just haven’t had time to sit down and reply. love yall

[headaching]

i don’t really know how to say this but for reasons unbeknownst to even myself, i think im finally ready to come back!!!!! it’s been over a year (😭) since i was regularly posting but today i decided enough is enough!!!!!!

not really sure what the protocol is here, i guess i’ll just start posting and reblogging stuff again like nothing ever happened?? but i MISSED YOU ALL so much and im so glad to be back and i can’t wait to hear what y’all have been up to :’)

im 27 now (i started this blog when i was 23 🤒) and im still autistic and gay as ever, but i do have different media hyperfixations (currently challengers and yellowjackets and iwtv 😮‍💨) than i used to so you might see me posting about that!!! but really, not much has changed with me. i got a new job and im doing better mentally and i missed my friends so here i am!

idk how to wrap this up so i’ll leave you with this: we are so fucking back!!!!!!